Where My Soul Belongs and Other Poems
by Angela Hoover
WHERE MY SOUL BELONGS
gray clouds cover the earth
early in the morning
as i head
to the mountains.
white headphones block out modern noise
as i walk the paved paths to the hiking trails,
to the flowing spring where i divide
myself from the crowd—
weekend warriors clad in
pinks and neon greens, coming
to sip from the fountain and
then return to city streets.
i clamber over rock and boulder,
under branches, through the leaves
until the only sound i hear
is my own labored breath
pulling me up the mountain.
birds sound sweetly among the leaves
while locusts rattle to be free
from their shells
on trees soaked with
yesterday’s rain.
and i simply sit
right here,
resting, like the mist
atop the peaks
where my soul
belongs.
BEHIND THE CURVE
The splendid spell of fall is coming,
hiding behind the curve of the earth,
waiting for the world to tilt
just
so—
waiting to spill its colors over the ground.
Locusts rattle, knowing that their time is coming.
Autumn’s coming,
coming to take their breath and keep it in the soil
‘til the next generation rises from their burrows at spring’s end.
South winds blow and cool the air, carrying the moisture of summer
up,
up,
into the clouds overhead,
into wisps of white
and pillows of gray.
Inhale deep and taste the green upon the leaves;
let the sun give one last burn—
For autumn languor waits behind the curve,
waiting,
watching,
for its turn.
ANGELA HOOVER
Angela Hoover is a writer based in rural northeast Indiana, at the intersection of One Cornfield and Yet Another Cornfield. She scribbles about things she observes in the world, on the web, and in the Word. When she’s not writing, you’ll find her somewhere outdoors and at-large.
Website: www.AngelaAtLarge.com
Instagram: @AngelaAtLarge_author
Substack: https://angelaatlarge.substack.com