Walking with Aiko
Sun’s rays and cerulean skies
belie the chill of March
on this imposter of a warm spring day.
Bare black branches aiming skyward
like arms reaching, beseeching
the heavens to warm the earth.
Nose and ears pinked by the wind,
my pace quickens to heat my body
and hasten a return to hearth and home.
Beside me, my true companion,
reveling in the freedom,
oblivious to brisk breezes that chill the bones.
Eyes bright, tail wagging,
she leaves no smells un-sniffed,
no fellow being ungreeted.
Oh, to be so joyfully present
in this very moment!
How grateful I am to be in step
with this exuberant teacher of life.
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Ann Weil is a former teacher and professor from Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her work can be read or is forthcoming in Poetry Quarterly, Nine Muses Poetry, The Ekphrastic Review, Headline Poetry and Press, Young Ravens Literary Review, American Writer’s Review, The Voices Project, and Clementine Unbound. Her website is www.annweilpoetry.com.
Amethyst Review 