With busy routine, she’s numb
For fleeting seasons, lost in the
little corner of the world

A sudden death of the editor
Or friend rattles the insipidity
She ponders in sadness, anxiety
Stubborn melancholia

She shuts down the computer, takes
A stroll by the creek, following the
Footprints have gone before her
Wonders if this ancient habits
Has lifted their spirits

The farther she takes each step,
The lighter the next one, lilt aloft
Essential to sustain her optimum
She takes deep inhale of
The fragrance of it all

(by Byung A. Fallgren.

2 thoughts on “Lilt

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