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Centering

Centering

took to

the trail

meandering

through a glade

and found

the moon

full

of orange marmalade

the fireflies

took a dip

and came up

in sparks

the air held

its breath

on a soft summer night

as bumblebees

floated in pink fields

down every row

never lingering

too long

on a single petal

as if there was a schedule

to keep

the rabbit too

was in such a rush

as it made a mad dash

across my feet

to the underbrush

the heron though

was in no hurry

still as a statue

as it watched the water

ripple forth

ever camera shy

it took off

to a private oasis

its wing a watercolor

brush

framed in a mere

moment of moonlight

etched across waves

I took the portrait

home

and hung it

in the gallery

TL

Published inPoetry