As Breath

 

I was forced to slow this morning

and was aided in this by the hermit thrush and its

solemn studied song.

 

I was forced to slow by the exigencies of berry picking amid the brambles,

By the tangle of wild clematis and the fierce

Blockade of blackberry

Canes almost an inch thick and deeply, dangerously armed with thorns.

 

I was forced to slow by the steep and treacherous loose rock path up the pipeline. I slowed

For the careful search for black and red raspberries.

 

As a consequence

Of all of this,

I am now

 

Slow

Almost to stillness and

 

Quiet

 

Unto silence.