Reading, Evening, Early June

Daylight stretches longer than my legs,

Longer even than the shadow of my legs

Striding across the late-afternoon grass

Like a god to move the sprinkler. But gods

Surely do not sweat, and the hose has the

Hard work of bearing the Aquarian jar,

Leaving merely mortal me to scuttle back

To my seat in the semi-shade and find

My place on the page somewhere amid

The Taconic Orogeny, floating on the

Ordovician sea as eastern clouds slowly

Pink, sunset soon—but not yet—to come.

6/2/2023 - 6/4/2023