Parkersburg, Iowa
When yesterday morning I was graced by trees on my walk so lonely. It is difficult to escape the presence of presence and to be lonely when one has eyes to see that these trees and this moss and this river are not just acquaintances of poetic device but are friends and companions who neither withhold nor withdraw, but pour forth speech if one has but ears to hear. Oh, to be the one who sees and hears who knows these branched companions. Tomorrow morning I will walk and wait and listen. And though lonely I will know that I stand among a choir.