On the Seventh Day

Back to Issue 15

There: the cedars and sequoias
stand straight on their own; do not
topple.   Good.   Rest now. 

Tides rise and fall.   They took a while 
to regulate!   Good now. 

The stars all scatter where they will. 
Children can imagine heroes 
in their patterns, dragons.   That’s good. 

Furred and feathered do no hurt
in all the holy mountain.   Safely rest. 

The helpmates have yet to learn 
the word “naked.”  They only choose
fruit appropriate for them. 

Sun and moon take turns, a lesson
to impatient children.   Good enough. 

All shall be well, and all
shall be well, and all manner of thing
be well.   Rest from work.

Let bird tuck head beneath feather, 
helpmates lie down together. 

By Russell Rowland

Seven-time Pushcart Prize nominee Russell Rowland writes from New Hampshire’s Lakes Region, where he has judged high-school Poetry Out Loud competitions. His work appears in Except for Love: New England Poets Inspired by Donald Hall (Encircle Publications), and “Covid Spring, Vol. 2” (Hobblebush Books). His latest poetry book, Wooden Nutmegs, is available from Encircle Publications.