nearing Summer
#coast #firefly #Nature #night #rhodeisland #seaside #summer #Venus #wonder
Your rare, cured leaves of being. Beautifully steeping in these years of living. Bringing to your senses rich
I’m glad for mine. The long, aquiline form of it. The way it has shaped, informed my face;
Those many, sung and unsung, who gave themselves, often gave up their lives, to fight, in wars,
Of my family name. One day, 150 years ago. In a Castle Garden where Jenny
You, Picasso aigu in your summer straw shading blue eyes and sailor stripes, juggling a bubble of cold wine.
Blonde head under baobab. Sun under shade. You sit on an African day,
The only thing warm tonight in the deep winter sky ~ and soon to occlude. The Wolf Moon, Ice Moon, Old Moon.
Each time you breathe in the Earth’s air, the life-giving air, you breathe out a cocktail of
The courtly old lady, widowed for decades, and her calico cat, who take each afternoon sun
The Maine woods. The coastal woods. Where coming into Spring he resides, is at home. Where he keeps a fire burning
While countries, armies and ideologies battle, bees make honey. Butterflies float, and drink the nectar from gently open flowers.
To ask your Self. In the still of the night, whether bright-starred or half-mooned. In the midst of the day,
Red lights flaring like Roman candles at empty intersections. Headlights wanding like blind men’s sticks
The limpa from Scandinavia. The ciabatta, and the michetta from Italia, also known as Rosetta. The mantou from China.
The tender new leaves of the trees, emergently green. The white feathers of the wading egret.