Presence 71

a pause
in our day
cat and I
just sitting

– Jill Lange

bare ash —
a perched hawk
draws in the dark

— Paul Chambers

stitching the hot days
to night

Renée Owen

that summer
long before we knew
which of us
would not be here
to look back

— Alison Williams

lights the corner
where I swept —
the same spider
spins a new web

— David He

Crossing Paths

There’s light chop and a long-period swell as we troll  by ourselves on this sunny summer day off the Pacific coast. The water is 1000’ deep, there’s not a boat in sight, and the dog is on the bow. The deep water pulls on my soul and I feel a slight shiver—the fused feeling of wonder and insignificance like looking out at the Grand Canyon or straight up a vertical cliff. In the distance, hundreds perhaps thousands of splashes approach the boat, intersecting our slow path. The porpoising dolphins race toward us, the pod splits around the boat, and reconverges on the other side. One dolphin bids farewell with a leap two stories high.  

surface tension . . .
I write the letter
of apology

— Richard L. Matta