that whisper sweet strength
beneath southern maple bark
prompt chickadee’s first notes
whistle the instant
between windsculpted rivertop
and morning dew wet air
click thunder‘s rumbles
triumphing deep
behind, beyond silver clouds
make me wish at least
my skin mumbled the language
I recognize I do not understand
Rufus Wright claims more crises than quota, more joys than deserved. His poetry comes from Blue Ridge education, MBA in NYC, teaching junior high, surviving corporations and several marriages… and hearing, watching, and appreciating what’s gone on around him. He lives in central Texas, loves Cindy, and writes every day.
