Tuesday, May 3, 2022

THE VIEW FROM THE DECK

 Atop Scott's deck we sat side by side

on the picnic table watching the world below

white dogwoods grew among the tangled woods

were they called kudzu - yes - an aggressive vine that

somehow made its way from the Far East to our

tiny burb of Willow Grove. In my short shorts and

sexy embroidered top I walked to the edge of the deck

and a magnificent wasp floated our way - death where is thy sting

I laughed and looked below at our compost heap - you never know

who will be there, said Scott - fox, badger, underground tunnelers,

I'm sure glad I don't commute anymore, yes, the worst part of your

job at SEPTA, and where is that Repunzle rope ladder you bought

but now we were yawning and I longed to go home and smell my lilacs

in my back yard or simply swoon and meditate on the great dome of heaven

methinks that was the Rubiyat's term a book I once owned but like

everything, fell through the abyss of eternity and was never missed

not even now. 



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