Collected Poems that Strike Me

The Light Continues
Every evening, an hour before
the sun goes down, I walk toward
its light, wanting to be altered.
Always in quiet, the air still.
Walking up the straight empty road
and then back. When the sun
is gone, the light continues
high up in the sky for a while:
When I return, the moon is there.
Like a changing of the guard.
I don't expect the light
to save me, but I do believe
in the ritual. I believe
I am being born a second time
in this very plain way.
~Linda Gregg

Happy Life
At my desk all morning
In the woods all afternoon
Headed home now
through the yellow light . . .
~ David Budbill,

Western Sky
There is one advantage
in walking eastward
these afternoons, at least,
that in returning you may have
the western sky before you.
~HDT October 20, 1858