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Sunswept

It feels like I always belonged here,
Among wild flowers
tall weeds
lulled to sleep by an orchestra
of cicadas, crickets, and the night breeze,
awoken by birdsong
and the sun drying dew from my cheeks.
Sparrows and blackbirds speak,
a more beautiful language
than what I can hope to learn.
Here, where the only refuge from dark
is the moon outlined by little sparks
reflecting in puddles and in my own eyes,
where forests give shade,
where the day’s work is washed away by rain
and a little dirt on my face doesn’t mean
I’m not suited for dining.
It is here that I have always belonged,
longing to echo my words among the sounds
of nature,
claiming my own rightful place
among the birds, the bugs, the dirt
from which I came.

-

As I turn from the flaming sun,
all its hands laid upon the trees
in a brief but glowing grasp,
just opposite this heated orb
sits a cooler, paler reflection thereof,
cratered and comparatively unimposing,
rising higher and pushing the sun
into a quieted state,
calmly taking command
as the rightful Watcher of the night.

Sunswept

Jenny Cameron

East Aurora, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

It feels like I always belonged here,
Among wild flowers
tall weeds
lulled to sleep by an orchestra
of cicadas, crickets, and the night breeze,
awoken by birdsong
and the sun drying dew from my cheeks.

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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