Morning Commute

Morning Commute  by Sara Cavin, Project Manager


Early on, a tawny form paused in the road,

Her big ears and eyes taking me in;

A smaller version of the same, this one with spots, followed her across.

Picking up their pace, the pair bounded

Halfway into the field,

Bending toward the Ompomp.


Cresting a hill, a tiny orange body –

This one luckier than most that venture where tires tread –

Balances delicately on amphibian toes

Before being gently guided into the roadside weeds.


Mourning doves flush into the trees

On twittering wings.

Sharing “Good morning’s” with a gentleman

Collecting the paper,

I continue on, as the road descends.


The flock of Jacobs stays bedded down

In the dew;

Their quiet repose will balance

The determined grazing of the afternoon.


A pickup passes;

We two travelers exchange the few-fingered wave

As is the classy manner

On rural roads.


Into the fog, the bit of chill gains

As I reach the steam source, the River;

The mirage of the mist

Waved away by a single scull’s blades.


I find the bleary-eyed H Croo,

Adding bodies to the parade on Ledyard Bridge;

Surely weary, but they are welcoming

This morning, with smiles.


Weaving ever-cautiously through town,

I reach the office above Mink Brook.

Ready to settle in to the day,

I just have to reflect on the neighbors I saw on the way.


Oh, nice, Pete rode in too!

And he has left just enough coffee

In the pot that Amber made,

So I can pour a mug and warm my tingling fingers.




Morning Commute