binoculared-vision
of evening silhouettes
*
as Canada geese
congregate
*
on the fairway,
the handsome backdrop
*
of terraced fields
in the distance
*
summer days
already contracting
*
as the slow race
to autumn begins
mid-season
what I signed up for
tendering the garden
both florals and greenery,
water bearing, fertilizing
observing gentle
growth with fascination & love
*
deadheading the spent blooms —
gray-bearded celosias,
desiccated calendula,
withered zinnias,
those faded sunflowers
*
choppy haircuts & trims,
cheery encouragements to blossom
even bushier, fuller, more flowery
than ever before
polished toes dampened by dew
strolling the meadow, the sun all a-glory,
she is adrift in a cascade of sorrel,
cardinal flower and buttercup
in the near distance, just along the waterline,
the lush brown of fatted cattails
tumble in the breeze
thoughts of gratitude leisurely
make themselves known,
beacons of intent in her mind’s eye
punctuating the warm sultry air
senryu
easement rescinded
a regathering of the right of way
the heart, free to love again
sparkle
I woke with aplomb,
having survived my sixty-ninth
4th of July.
*
this was a jaded, unruly one
given the angry, restless mood
of the country,
this hot, humid summer of 2026.
*
today, I enjoyed the ripe juiciness
of a Colorado peach,
sipped hot tea at our sun-drenched
*
kitchen table, a cadre of watercolor
paints close at hand,
the gentle touch of my husband’s
fingers massaging my neck,
*
our furry companion watching us
with an agreeable look
of contentment on his sweet little face.
my fabulous riches
because we have no screens
on our sunroom windows,
I cranked open
the casement glass
following the morning’s
burst of much-needed rain
so that I could enjoy —
with a hot cup of tea in my hand —
a freshet of storm-cleared air
as I patiently waited for
the next rumble of thunder
the unending, myriad joys of reading
lined up along the baseboards,
tucked behind the swivel rocker,
crammed into plastic crates,
neatly aligned in the four corners
of our coffee table —
yes! my shelves runneth over,
stacks & stockpiles of books
some I might not ever read, it’s true
(but they’re there for the taking)
there’s always one or two
in my Amazon cart
but, no matter —
I relish every possibility!
towel off, corner pocket
it’s been yet
another rough night.
the morning sun
dredges up
a dinosaur in her mirror.
its snaggle-toothed grin,
a feeble attempt
at the jollied mirth
she no longer tries
too terribly hard
to project.
the epitome of summer
in the early morning swelter
of the day’s promised misery,
a glimpse of my 10-year-old self
as she would have reveled
in the glory of a late day in June
I understand, in that sunshiny moment,
the allure of the season
*
I sense it in the humid air,
the titillation of childhood adventures
the what-might-be,
the who-I might-become —
indeed, the grasshopper-chasing,
dredge ditch exploring, watermelon essence
of our school-year reprieve
*
scolding my jaded self, I ponder
the pickpocketing, innocence-robbing
years of adulthood, and I marvel
at the possibility of returning
to a once-more youthful appreciation
of what-might-yet-be,
of who-I-might-yet-become
extreme
the sky says it’s so —
it’s coming
*
the air is fraught
with heat & humidity
*
shades drawn
crank up the A/C
*
drink plenty of fluids
keep your cool
*
summer is here
for real
Chit Chat