"My first morning," she says,
mostly to herself,
mostly to hear her voice again.

The rain has stopped.
She inhales:
so many scents!
She can't yet sort them out,
but soon she will–
animal musk,
wet soil,
apple blossoms,
her own skin…

She grins with pleasure,
and doing so,
startles herself–
her first smile!
She touches the corners of her mouth.
Yesterday was too unnerving to allow delight,
but last night–what was it?
Sleep Adam called it–
very healing.

"What does one do with all this?"
she asks of the oaks,
the stream,
the squirrel watching from a rock.
So much touching and tasting ahead of her–
an eternity of touching and tasting.

Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.