poem written based upon this image--an online poetry class assignment
There is a quiet corner for the wandering~ a place that gathers itself just beyond the usual path. Light settles there differently, not bright, not dim, just enough to soften the edges of whatever arrives. A single chair of shadow, a small drift of air that carries no urgency, only the faint scent of something unhurried. Here, even thoughts walk more slowly, as if the ground beneath them has learned to hold its breath. Nothing calls you forward. Nothing pulls you back. It is simply a place that waits without expectation~ a still pocket of the world where the wandering can rest without explanation.
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