Vim, vigor, viable.

You wait two winters

with the seeds and finally

July proves a

firework show.

These days, I’d rather not

believe that people are mirrors.

I think we are in our own orbits most of the time.

At Cataract Falls I climbed unto

the rocky surface

holes filled with murky water

20 swallowtail butterflies

(swear!)

one

drifting near the running water

casting off the

spray

dancing magnificently above the two fishermen

and then

great blue heron

leapt from a hidden branch

and also took to the air.

It was all edges and

the soothing sound of

water.

Today, I am in an exercise class

with my mother.

We lilt out heads the same way.

We kick our legs the same way.

Vim, vigor, viable.

Not quite mirrors,

but something in the same.