Tuesday, June 29, 2010

First Day of Summer

By Nancy Dunlop

It is morning. The first
day of summer, the cat speaks
at the screen door, coffee
is poured, and the world
spills forth her alphabet. Kitchen curtains
float out and in, out and in, plotting
the wind’s breath, and what
is the wind writing us today? We sip
our coffee; the cat rubs our legs; the yard beyond is filled
with a thousand trembling leaves and each leaf
makes its own shadow and each
shadow moves its own movement until
the very ground is dancing.
Specifically. In concert. And we who watch
are lifted.

--June 21, 2010

Poet Nancy Dunlop makes her home in the Capital District of New York. She is a full-time teacher of English at the University at Albany, State University of New York.

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