A Shining On Dew Poem by Barry Middleton

I skipped a rock
half way across the pond.
You said it sank into oblivion.

Atop the Indian mound
we could see the forever
of the smoke of yesterday.

I remember the cuffs
of our jeans wet with dew
and the sun on the grass.

We froze in awe
when a golden deer
paused by the dogwood.

Our dreams glimmered
in the creek rocks
like a secret treasure.

Somewhere in those hills
an old beech still
wraps us in its heart.

Only in the early dawn
can we touch the quiet hand
of all there ever was or will be.