Atop Scott's deck we sat side by side
on the picnic table watching the world belowwhite 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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