The zinnias were looking like this yesterday, hens in the background. This morning frost zapped them, but the hens are not troubled. Photo from October 2009. This October 20 coal ash trucks began running past my house. Will I be okay? Will my chickens be okay?
***
THE OMENS ARRIVE XXI. August 2, 2015
I’ve never been here before, and
it’s scary. I must lead others, break
this path I’m walking. Pathfinders
don’t have it easy. Then gifts arrive
when I least expect them. My activist
friends volunteer their husbands for
farm work. Letters from older
friends comfort me. This leyline
path I chose is for life. I can’t turn
back. I wade through bamboo grass
up to my knees to find ripening
tomatoes. I pluck fresh figs. Some
things are alive and well, including
me even if bad dreams wake me up.
The zinnias I freed from grass clumps
work on blooms. The winged chicks
flourish. Each agony of mind and
heart passes because I persist, dig
deep to lift out fresh courage. These
years take a steady hand, a long
vision, all my practical wisdom,
and the gift of grace.
***
Not yet laying, but soon. They love chickweed now growing in my backyard.
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