Open Heart by Nancy Schatz Alton
I want to be a “flung-open door”
just like the poem says
capturing wind & tree sway
bird song & seal dive.
I’m the Sunday hike all week long
no interruptions for the mundane
all sea swell & evergreen scent
no room for disappointment or dismay.
Yet the city rolls here:
truck honk, car wheels on cement
poop processing plant aroma
overwhelms pine, sea-salt & sweat.
That’s why I watch the way
my rubber boot meets the mud
frame the trees piled up & tossed
by Friday night’s storm.
I can’t live here but this
can live in me: earth stink
ghost-shaped winter trees
water soaked& satisfied.
*poetry line from “Brokeheart: Just like that” by Patrick Rosal