Giselle Maya

Cattail Stalks

there is a stirring in the treetops of the mulberry

                 willow

                                  oak

as though the august earth wished for rain

under the great oak is a bench where I sit
sometimes at dusk

it faces lime cliffs and the remains of a village called
“le vieux castillon” abandoned centuries ago

still as a tree stump i sit just looking
the garden cat’s tail weaves through grasses
to join me      she is a master at walking gracefully
and sitting still

once we saw two foxes feasting on fallen plums
and a young boar standing stock still in the meadow
looking towards us

wild creatures bend to drink from the translucent spring