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 humidity will
hang
in the air
as we hang
between north and south
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.
August hangs heavy in the air uncomfortably cloaking all who venture outside August forced open its eyes later this morning than yesterday labored breathing hissing over soon ssooooon (I found a cicada lying silent in the street on my morning walk today) What happened to May’s sweet promise the glittering dance of June July’s sultry…
December had barely finished spelling out its name, yet huge, wet snowflakes silently …
Who made you king? Do you terrorize the neighborhood in retaliation for your abandonment? Twenty pounds of arrogance straining to exit the storm drain gangster cat Your slovenly swagger down the street means nothing to me Watch out Some day I might tame you.
Early morning sun dances across the inlet in a blizzard of light tags a falling leaf then darts up the hill weaving through the trees in a game of hide and seek Thousands of gold flecks swirl through the air lifted on the wind – while winter lies in wait around the next corner Temporarily…
Starting at the river Abercorn charts its course through the Historic District Victorian District, into Ardsley Park where 20th century takes hold and on past bungalows of the fifties and sixties Derenne marks the break where past and present meet the world to the right across the intersection – anachronistically into the sky – rises…