As though I were nowhere around, the porcupine
shuffles the edge of the road,
in five minutes crosses
a distance I could have covered
in less than one
And disappears at last into cattails
and rushes, sunset, a vespers
of waterbirds, leaving me
still unwilling to move.
I am a sucker for scenes like this.
The slowest beauty can rush me.
And here I am,
all of my defenses down.
~Ingrid Wendt from “Porcupine at Dusk”
A walk through enclosed tropical gardens
to witness the slow beauty of wading flamingos,
koi moving between their legs,
a lazy mist over exotic flowers,
butterflies testing their fragile wings.
I am overwhelmed,
my defenses down
over the rush of my life
outside this bubble.
Going back through the double doors,
re-entering the gray and cool of the northwest,
the bubble burst
and I’m released in a flutter of wings.