Millwood Fields


Walking on the border
of cornfield and woods
humming insects chaperone my dusk walk
and ancient oaks remind me
I am still only fifteen.

Clamoring over a cement aqueduct
built a century ago,
I tumble brown pebbles and
spring green waters
into my palms.

I throw a pebble into sky, imagine it
landing in some forlorn future
where I will look down
at an unfamilliar path

and dream of walking home.


Judith Pordon

More Poems by Judith Pordon

Go to Home page