---

Follow an old path to a wooden platform,

a small, covered bench, the perfect temporary shelter

for a tired or weary traveler. Deeply breathing, in and out,

sitting, give a listen and hear all around, as other life grows

accustomed to the rain, making soothing sounds

as earthy smells mingle with damp hair and cloth.

Squeeze it gently or shake it lightly.

Drying begins as body heat escapes.

A small fire would help, or even warmth

from the sun when dark clouds have passed.

Release desire for those and other comforts.

Relax, easing into the present. No harsh wind.

Relax. Be here now. Soaking up what is already

starting to let go. Drip, drip, drop. Slows down,

until it stops. Now, gather yourself and prepare

to move on, following the worn trail back home.

---

Geraldine Cannon teaches English and Creative Writing at the University of Maine, in Fort Kent, ME (USA), under her married name of Becker. Publishing before she married, Cannon hails from the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, in South Carolina. She now lives and works with her husband at the other end of that mountain range, where she continues to be inspired by nature, science, and psychology–along with literature, of course. She hopes you enjoy these poems.