the reach

by Maureen Scott Harris

of my shadow
       falling away
              from the sun
does it lead or follow
       where are we going

I am anxiety’s horse clumsy-footed
erratic way-finder
           how to get there—

how to get

    there opens out like water

spreading across a field, flood of light
beyond this wooded road, trees rising
from their reflections

            gestures recur
    draw me on
to the land’s unfolding curves and swells
      its breathless attention
           holding still

by which I mean  continuous   on-going
a kind of flowing without thought
       what is   here
               inside there

— from Juniper Volume 3, Issue 2