Air scented thickly from many spring flowers.
Heat inversion and fog and warming skin.
A morning so heavy that the peonies
can’t lift themselves to greet the sun.
I sit shaded, writing it all down.
Sun on the rock riverside holds heat
from the day, water retains cool nights –
the boulder midstream is somewhere in between.
This moment: light as whitewater. This day:
the cold deep eddy behind the boulder.