We can only write what we see, see what we write.
Today bountiful waking to trees out my windows early daylight,
Husband's arm about my side,
Rise for Kenya tea, strong and black.
Lashings of rain? Rainbow blooms or withered leaves?
Frost on the meadow or dustings of snow?
Every day too much scrolling,
Too much news; ideas not mine, no matter how creative.
In early September swimming ends the day.
Sit by the pool . . . but oh, the mint needs a drink,
Oregano too, the pot plants, impatiens and begonia, salvia red and white.
Not creeping rosemary lavender flowers fine with the heat;
The yucca, lantana red and orange all happy.
My life has been long, why is that on my mind?
Because, I see fullness, bounty, beauty.
Mint in my lemonade, oregano in my pasta,
Rosemary on my potatoes,
Root the begonia, gather wood for Fall
Savor, always savor as only age can do.
If you have age you know that too.
No comments:
Post a Comment