I am sorry kind gentleelk
I have never been to the Rivers Pass
Though I have heard from friends
That the water there
Is exceptionally clear
I once had an Uncle
Who would go every year
For what he would call
Elaksation Elkscursions
Mother would roll her eyes
Whenever he would say this
I would ask him what that meant
And mother would tell him
Not to fill my head with such nonsense.
Precious moments found inside silence,
Inside floating,
Inside crisp envelopes
Opened with a sharp knife,
Wait like a foreign Uncle
Who’s unaware of customs,
Unaware of time changes,
Unaware that foreign currencies
Cost in translation.
Precious moments are our forgiveness
And our floral holiday
Lightly cloaked in a daydream.
Hot sun on the patio
And sirens invisibly floating by,
Followed closely by breeze
Amongst full branches of a willow
And a lost call of a gull,
Precious.