In the cooler hours
with the Sun still warm
and the breeze rattling the leaves
and whispering the wild wheat
we walked down our street
and into the park
my gentle wife and I
we listened to the wind
and the small birds
the sweetness of the milkweed blooms
swirled around us as we walked
the firework bursted blooms
gentle pastel violet on furry green grey stalks
The rotting bark and last years leaves
cold musty smell beneath the shadowed branches
comforting and quiet this scent like the arms of a mother
wrapping around
safety,
love,
the promise of growth
across the cracked asphalt path
along the shores of the lake
promising blue
glittering and flashing
the rays of the latter day sun
warming the fishermen
with a shrug and jerk
they shoulder their unfruitful poles
to trudge to another more promising pool
The Pooh Sticks bridge beneath the pines
reaching across the rippling stream
we choose our sticks
my lover and I
she counts 1, 2, 3
we drop our branches
and rush to the downstream rail
one win for me
one win for you
the stream moves coolly
"This is what I imagine heaven to be like"
I softly think aloud
Almost out of the park
something moves the bushes
we walk quietly to the small gap
between the underbrush
and we see the rust colored fur
and the soft down covered horns
he stares at us and sniffs
I stop my wife and point
we pause and watch
the young buck turns slowly
accustomed to an audience
he pulls the leaves and wanders off chewing
bringing a second young male and a smaller reddish doe
following behind.
I am so wealthy
I am so blessed
this banquette for the senses
a short walk
a couple blocks
my wife beside
to share
Comments (1)
Very nicely written. Welcome back.