“A Dance”

“The stepping-stones,

once in a row along the slope,

have drifted out of line,

pushed by frosts and rains.

Walking is no longer thoughtless

over them, but alert as dancing,

as tense and poised, to step

short, and long, and then

longer, right, and then left.

At the winter’s end, I dance

the history of its weather.”

– Wendell Berry

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s