Lender

Six-twelve a.m.
The sun slowly enters
the lens and shaft
of a telescope
that last night
peeked at Saturn’s rings.

The white horse
walks the circuit
of the pasture fence
knowing it takes me
eight minutes
to get my boots
and hat on
before tending her.

A hornet drifts
bloom to bloom
where the honeysuckle grows
and avoids
several butterflies’
erratic flight paths.

This is my only map
to the center of the universe
and if you must borrow it
you need to lift the corner
at the hill top
before rolling it up
so it is easy to carry.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

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