A crazy lace agate sits on my desk,
a travel gift from my partner
returning from the West Coast.
A stone cheerleader, said to release
negativity and embrace joy. She says
it reminds her of my watercolors.

It reminds me of how
it’s taken much of my life to come
to this emptying mindfulness,
to see the full
inside the green tunnel of leaves
that sags
under the warming sun or smell
the cold in these same leaves
sodden
with snowmelt; and
such a long time to learn
that the bougainvillea’s red
is found
nowhere else, and how distinct that smell
of the fallen gardenias
she has placed in a shallow bowl.

Who knew there were multiple
shapes and colors
in clouds, or so many patterns
to the spiders’ webs revealed
in the morning hoarfrost?

I am learning to mix colors
into new, unaligned colors,
learning the patience
to let a layer of paint dry,
and, perhaps soon, to become
friends with myself. She knows
most of this and she knows
it is enough.

Mike Forecki divides his time between the bluffs overlooking the St. Croix River and Florida’s southern Gulf Coast. For the past 40 years, he has lived and practiced law In western Wisconsin, and began also practicing poetry when he semi-retired nearly 10 years ago. For more by Mike, search for his name at VolumeOne.org.