Get Well
I hear the
cicadas buzzing and
find their cast-off clothing
in the garden
Yellowing leaves
are stuck
to the patio table
Summer’s hot breath doesn’t fool
Fall is poised right around the corner. Ugh.
I hear the
cicadas buzzing and
find their cast-off clothing
in the garden
Yellowing leaves
are stuck
to the patio table
Summer’s hot breath doesn’t fool
Fall is poised right around the corner. Ugh.
Second Sunday forecast snow. 915 – a tiny flake? another. more . 930 – only barren trees shrouded in a clouded sky. I’d been so – expectant, if only for a moment –and, had already told Maisie. She remembers ‘first snow’ (so long ago) silently falling through the darkness sensing it, barking till we went…
My daughter says ‘Mother Earth always wears a watch’ How does She know what color to paint the sky? or when to quiet nature’s sounds? Absentmindedly she reaches for a bunch of colored pencils.
Unable to reconcile a relative of the onion growing among grape vines…
Against the antique oak rocker in the alcove leans a needlepoint begun decades ago (18th century American primitive re-created in my hand and style with woolen yarns and carefully selected stitches) Cart roads lead from the ‘big’ house, past out buildings and wild vines heavy with grapes (Norton?) – down at the river, a sailing…
The day’s hot breath lingered forcing fireflies out of the grass. Soundlessly they rose – rising blink-ing rising – pausing in the trees, slowly charting their way ever upward. Occasionally we’d catch one in an old jar, while grownups sat in lawn chairs and chatted. Mostly we just ran around small, thin arms o u…
On such a May morning thoughts of New England beckon Open windows shaded by large, old trees sun filtering through the leaves cool, breezy, fresh no overt fragrance like Savannah further south Too soon June will bring us to our senses air conditioners will drone blocking all feel and sounds of the outdoors Heat and…