Sleepy Mountain River

by rebsnugs

We artists, the sleepy ones
How quickly we slip into sedation
Burrowing into the safety nest
Cowering from the labor of creation

Fruits set bruising on the shelf
Too soon they mold and ferment
Left ignored at their prime
I weep for the waste I carve
From the tender flesh of their bodies

Yesterday’s harvest matures into tomorrow’s feast
For seasons to come my shelves are replete
My cellar runneth over with crocks sour and sweet
To fuel my aching body that craves summer’s heat

Yet the mind too will brown and rot
The fruit flies lazy dance
A silent alarm to tidy the kitchen
Freshen the brewing grounds
For a safe space to experiment and feast

You are not so sleepy
That you will lose yet another hour
Of cool morning sunlight
Gentle steady winds in shades of blue
Leaves upturned, shining as seashells on the coast
To the mountains my river flows