Room to breathe

And then everything suddenly seems to fall into place
like a puzzle that has been lying
on the table for many months, untouched.

How you find space here to breathe
among pollard willows who, like stubborn peasants
with their hands in their pockets, lean against the wind.

A place you’ve never been before, but that feels familiar
like a song you recognize from the first time you hear it.

How you do not desire more than what you are,
your eyes following crows in their flight.

The murmur of a city in the distance. And the wind
who seeks itself in the tree tops.

You stretch out like a slow summer evening
that does not fall but always has been.

This poem was published in Crannóg, a literary magazine from Ireland.