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the yum of turkey provolone on wheat

painting a respectable watercolor landscape

Paul Mauriat’s achingly beautiful Love is Blue

occasionally sleeping-in, guiltfree and glorious

The Five Chinese Brothers, a childhood favorite

Coco Wheats, scrambled eggs, a box of raisins

the satisfaction of measuring & cipherin’ fractions

early mornings, a quiet house, hot cup of tea

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~ written, with much admiration, after Mary Oliver

When did it happen?

“Long before I knew something like this could ever transpire.”

*

Where did it happen?

“In a forgotten place where soft-shell clams gather at dawn.”

* 

No, tell. Where did it happen?

“Where the sound of the sea rushes in to the wild chambers of the heart.”

*

What is your heart doing now?

“Oh, child. It longs so for you.”

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Photo by Mauro Lima on Unsplash

You smoke the chops.

I nuke the broccoli

set the patio table

thankful for the gray-cloud respite,

tardy break from late-summer heat.

*

You make a face

when I sip my merlot

after rescuing a wayward fly

from the brink of napa’s plump tannins,

its claret-smooth glide.

*

We plot vacation options

ponder post-retirement timelines

laugh as puppy patrols

the perimeter path

along our black wrought iron fence.

*

You close up shop,

turn off the propane.

We debate the story arc

of Mindhunter on Netflix

we’re eager to resume.

*

We call for Coco,

I crank down the umbrella.

Dusk at this hour, still several weeks away.

You grab the peppermill.

Tummies full, we head back inside.