holding on to you by Libby Walkup
a poem
poetic musings
There are trails through the trees to the riverbank at Gooseberry Park it’s the most forest found in this prairie city. Last weekend, I sat at the river’s edge and had a chat with a yellow warbler and yesterday I found a duck couple who casually paddled their way from one side of the river to the other, two turtles sunning on a log embedded in the river bed: one larger and still, reaching their neck out to the sky, the other smaller and restless, moving about the log, poking their head up from the opposite side. I liked to think they were parent and toddler. And, surely, thousands of minnows nipping for food and rippling the water’s surface over and over again. I watched an ant navigate the terrain of the trail at my feet and wondered what poisonous plants look like because I really don’t know and should probably learn. I met a two-trunk tree: lovers dancing tall, reaching for the light as I reach for stillness.
I don’t know who this poem was for or who I was missing, but it dropped down on me one morning in Bath, waking with my foot entangled in the bedsheet.
with gratitude,
Holding on to You
by Libby Walkup
The quilt still pulled down
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