The Poet's Room

  At Camus's Bench! Sitting in Fall's quiet, Sun above trees, Highlights Hickory  Yellow leaves;                 The start of October, with my Achilles heal on the mend I start taking longer walks at the conservancy.   The narrow path through the prairie passes a variety of asters, beautiful late blooms. Blues and whites, the name Aster from the Greek meaning "Star". Seed heads of grasses grown heavy in ripening wave back and forth in a light breeze. I run my hand over a stem. Glean a hand full of seeds. Release them to the wind. Everything is as it should be.               I enter the pines find pine sap oozing from scars where limbs had been in the tree's youth. Deep shade and quiet permeate everything including my being.   I walk among friends who say everything by just growing into the light. At the bottom of the trail the bench with the Camus quote. I sit down observe  sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees. A breeze shakes loose wild cherries hangin