The bite of breeze
and the smell of earth
and the fading warmth
of the late-appearing, early setting sun,
a time to feel
rich in my domain
and glad of others’ work well done

The land is holy,
full of so much life
that flows so quickly
into any opening

I don’t know what kind of bird or animal
made the trilling, cooing sound
off in the distance
between the noises of machinery
but it sounded sweet,
it sounded like home.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 8, 2018