The Lawn, St. John’s, Annapolis

I lay my weariness
At the foot of a tree
Which dips into the cool earth
Pressed against my back

I remove the glass frames
Which confine my vision
To twin ovals of clarity
And stare up at the leaves above me
No longer leaves, but prismatic pieces
Of green, blue, yellow–
Is that the sun?–
That wink at me
From an indefinite height

I sigh
I breathe
I am at rest

Advertisement