“Sometimes” by Tami Boehle-Satterfield

barefoot in grass

And not often,
When I am alone,
Standing barefoot in blades of grass,
I remember
I was once every thing,
I remember
I was once no thing,
At the same time,
That there was no time.
There was just being.

This is a slow turning that too often goes unnoticed.
Mowed down in thought,
I walk my plot
And conceive myself
A single leaf.
A declaration.
Embodied boldly,
But never without reference to another.
Forever laying claim to turf.

Poor sod,
Matted down and rooted.
Too dense to see now,
That later
The past creeps into the future,
And all the single, solitary blades, and leaves
Make a pasture of tall grasses,
Covering an expansive ground,
Desiring no more
Than to acquiesce –
To just be.

Ah, but sparsely,
A fraction of time,
I find myself,
Content in the abundance,
Just beginning to mind the unexpected discovery,
Broad portions
Of neat rows.
Each elongated swordsmen
Sharp-edged and foraging
The verdure of a present mind.

May 2013

  1. Dana Cohenour said:

    Wow! Such beautiful words… simplicity, but with such depth. I am so impressed, Tami.

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