The Message
by Heather Sager
A text message
blinks
on my phone
as I walk the path
nobody out in town
tall weeds along
the path
shush the cool
stream
the sun splashes
playfully on
I glance at my
phone,
looking for the
message,
when Oh—the Earth
calls me back to her—
I find some
wildflowers,
redolent with the
commingled scent
of rhubarb and
chocolate.
* * * * *
Heather Sager lives in Illinois. Her poetry has most recently
appeared in Sandpiper, The Wild Word, Remington
Review, Cacti Fur, Third Wednesday, CircleShow, Ariel
Chart, and Northwest Indiana Literary Journal. Heather also
writes short fiction.
Lovely images, irony.
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