STOCKBRIDGE

 

 

Coming into the morning kitchen,

the sun reaching outstretched arms

into the corners of the room.

 

Sunlight gently touching wooden planks

and crumb filled sheets of wax paper

on the quiet kitchen countertop.

 

I think I can see a hundred miles,

into farmhouses across the frozen pond

and above the steeples of the churches.

            --Published in Ad Libitum