August 2001 / Volume Two / Issue Two
Alice Cone
In The Space Of Time

I did not expect this time to spread out like a prairie,
like a long breath of prayer that whispers across
acres of soft, yellow grasses.  I expected this time
to stop like a backyard garden, beds of alyssum
secreted by low, stone walls.

Now I am stunned by this space, all this green
light, mysterious flickers just above the horizon.
I hear chirrups and cricketing, rustling in leaves.
Can you tell me what they mean?

I admit the untold world scares me.
Just believe I am grateful
I was given enough hours
to gain the open country
where I have come to love you.
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