By Barbara Brooks

Shards To Be Pondered Presently
September, early dawn
					after “Fragments to the Considered Later”	
					      Susan Rich
Consider the drive to the ocean
at early dawn, after time spent with birds.
Restore your thoughts to the warm sand
softly brightened; the beach house still radiant.
Raise your eyes to the sky, to the gull’s
cry, even the shell on the beach.
We may do so.  Bend into the breeze
grasp the chalice of drink, the tiny regrets.
Unwind. The firmament is exposed. Rise up to it.
With the wind.

Barbara Brooks is a retired physical therapist living in North Carolina and a member of the poetry group Poet Fools. She frequently incorporates nature in her poetry as an extension of her love of the outdoors. She has three chapbooks: The Catbird Sang, A Shell to Return to the Sea, Water Colors. She has had published poems in a number of eclectic journals such as Jellyfish Whispers, Tar River Poetry, Peregrine and Third Wednesday, Silkworm.


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