Chesapeake Mornings

Standing in the driveway by the trash cans
My mind wanders southward, a hundred miles
And more, to where herons feed in clear water
While boats swing restlessly in tidal streams.

I measure all of my daybreaks at home
Against the Chesapeake mornings I have known,
Anchored in the stillness of emerging light,
Waiting for dawn to open my shadowed eyes.

I hear the wind singing in the clothes-line,
Moaning in the roadside telephone wires.
And I know that it is the same wind that
Frolics far away in drum-tight rigging.

A grove of tall masts is tracing circles
In the sky as restless keels and unmanned rudders
Stain the blue water with rippling patterns:
Brush strokes from the steady hand of god.

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2 Responses to Chesapeake Mornings

  1. Don says:

    ery interesting stories. You should write a book.

  2. Chris Kleinfelter says:

    Thank you for the kind comment. Writing has always been in my blood. It went on the boil back in the late 90’s went I went to college at age 40. I started writing and got some poetry published but life got unbalanced and I set it aside. I have come to blogging at a time when jumping back in the game fits well with my situation. Call it serendipity based on sharing. If a book comes about it will grow in an organic manner. Some people have told me I’m full of fertilizer. Might as well do something useful with it.

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