Friday, June 14, 2013

Terminal moraine

Most often I think I know why I am going somewhere.  If it*s a job interview, the thought is to get the job, paid or unpaid.  Sometimes I am captured by other things, like the fact that the drive to and from the interview is through seemingly endless forest preserve, the site of a terminal moraine, the end of a glacier.  I have no clear idea whether I will get this volunteer position.  The drive was gift in itself.  

Yesterday I drove south
To interview.
The sun dappled through leaves,
Acres and acres and acres
Of leaves and trees.
I drove north again
With no clear ideas
Except to think
The glacier ended here,
Dropped its load of rock,
Formed hills and valleys.
Trees upon trees grew,
Provided filters for the sun.
I arrived home
North of the terminal moraine,
Grateful for the drive
The interview
The trees
The dappled sunlight
and home.

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