Above her head, skies—not Ruben’s skies,
populated with pink cherubs--
No, the skies she knows – Florida’s low steamy skies,
Texas’ aqua autumn skies, Kansas’ endless great plains skies,
or arching overhead her primal sky,
the Northwest Olympian skies.
Beneath her feet- ice
Not the ice of rivers, lakes or even ponds;
but framed, measured out in meters or feet.
But she never needed guidelines to hit her mark!
She felt the right place instinctively.
Surrounding her, born of earth and shaped by wind—
the sentinels that protect her, comfort her, and
accompany her—her tribe, the trees.
Composed of all species and colors—
deciduous, conifers even succulents
rising from the desert floor lifting to
the greatest mountain heights.
They surround her and she feels
their might and power within her.
© Gay Reiser Cannon *8/3/2021* All Rights Reserved