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the light

the light moves on the hemlock branches slowly in time and constantly as the branches are moved by the air that surrounds us and our planet

the light moves in me as I watch it along the bark’s thick skin

all of you who have connected to me

whether you are here or not here possibly here or impossibly here

Earl, Bertha, Georgia, Mac, Elinor, Sue, Ann, Steve

you move in me like the sun slowly moving each day disappearing and returning

and the wind fluttering everything around me

from Steve — poems from a friend — Bill Eberle

Thomaston Maine     February 26

© 2019, Bill Eberle