I am still so you can move
when you think I’m about to turn
I view you as delight and you define me
You glow of late
like the recently planted grass
in the side garden of sunlight that used to only sit
Coming closer to brave with every beat
you come out faithful to the evening’s song
when shadows are longer and stiller
and skip over blossoming blade
I make lists of where to walk and how to step
so as not to thread over the freedom
you press upon that patch
of newly grown blades of soft grass.
Blades of soft grass. Movement amid all the stillness.
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly