Toward Pheasant Brook — A Poem To Settle

I wrote this poem four years ago, during the early shutdown of Covid. It was context then for an environment of nerves and feeling startled. I read it again today, by chance, looking for something else on my website. And thought, ah, yes, some good remembering that applies today too.

Enjoy.

Toward Pheasant Brook

I walked this morning.
Down Lakeview toward Pheasant Brook Park.

The sky was mostly blue.
The sun shined.
Dogs barked.

I did in fact see a Ring Necked Pheasant as I walk to the park.
It nervously scrambled from bushes,
startled by my passing.

That bird was impressive,
full color against the brown of yet un-budded spring.

I needed that walk today. 
To feel an unquarantined world.
To see majestic mountain.
To say and receive sun-warmed “Good morning” 
with passers-by, also out walking.

We are all a little nervous these days,
wondering about safety for ourselves, our loved ones, 
and the postponed world around us.

We are all a little startled
and jarred by hyperbole that has become reality.

This time will pass.
There is budding yet to happen.
Open fields will grow vegetables.
Dogs will lick our hands, tails wagging.

There is much impressive beauty 
among us,
and ahead of us. 

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