On Gentle Winds
by Annie Jenkin

A memory awakens
like a fluff of cloud
mirrored on a pond,
or a butterfly alighting
on the palm of my hand,
quietly reflecting
upon these riches,
I look up
and smile …

As a mare
gently nuzzles
her young foal,
at cygnets riding
in protective wings,
their grace and whiteness
captured by sunlight.
Precious images I file
for future memories …

Return to: