XII

on the way home
down 106 A
the twelfth robin
all jaunty on the boulevard
red abreast in Gold Bar

kinder gentler

time to find
other ways

People on the Path

soiling

begonias begonias begonias begonias
(scarlet, orange, salmon, pink)
dahlia
nasturtiums
geraniums
portulaca
heliotrope
lantana
gazania
pansies
coleus

the marigolds ('winning grace in the language of flowers')
will have to wait
their day in the sun will come on Sunday

fluidity

last night, dreams of rolling mountain streams
and later, running liquid honey through a film projector
crystal clear sticky nocturnal flows

mauve days

suddenly, lilacs fill the air
the month when everything wakes up and comes alive
long blooming swooning days
the merry month of May

high temps

heatwave or no heatwave
all the little birds
just keep on tittering

abracadabra

there is a van in the hood today
a black van with the words 'Blind Magic' painted on the side
maybe someone is having their window coverings cleaned
but i'd prefer to think that there are unseen forces at work
a little supernatural delivery system
wizardry on wheels

still

the apple tree hanging over the fence is blooming
soft pink blossom flowers
petals here and there tearing away in the wind

although no longer with us
this still feels like Nettie's tree
Nettie's tree in Nettie's yard

strums

beautiful music winding its way up the staircase
fingertips on metallic strings
electric
wave upon wave upon waves

up this morning briefly around 4am with frente
the sky already beginning to lighten up

late spring but feels like summer
and if i could be anywhere
---somehow magically transported---
i would choose to be here in this moment
in this place
in this light
in this listening
right now

just for show...

when frente was a little slip of a tabby
we joked that he had 'old man ears'
fuzzy, furry, hirsute
now at 19 he doesn't hear so well anymore
(or at least his hearing is selective)
the little appendages are more or less for show
looking dapper in his senior years
as we shower him with waves
sonic waves of kisses

petrichor

noun
a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

twilight

shades of blue and green

there are some colours
in the reflected waters
of the mountain park lakes
that take your breath away
meanwhile the small fishes (mini minnows) swim along
indifferent to it all
all the grandeur
all the beauty
but i guess they do their breathing there
well below the surface

dressing with optimism

somedays
when you discover
that one of your favourite covers
'tops'
has a spot that hasn't disappeared
despite repeated attempts to erase it
you happen on a little discovery:
a Doctor Doolittle PushMe/PullYou
front to back
and all is more or less good again

no worries that when you make your exit
it will be with a circle of soil on your back
the ever expanding past

wrapping arms around it

'on the precipice of a fossilized Bone Tar pit
at the end of a spent day'...

and on the patio of The Next Act
after an evening of Gravity cabaret

communing with friends
on a picnic bench
under the shelter of an awning
and the scent of the first late night
spring city rain

flitting

soft air
budding leaves
and butterfly wings

in the air

a little time to reflect
waiting on a sidewalk chair
Norwood Blvd in the sun
across from Fascinations Spa
and a favoured perch for a pair of pigeons

after a little while a visit to the Hungarian sausage house
with a request to use their phone
(someone has not joined the 20th century and it isn't them)

minutes later a greeting
a meeting and prospects going forward
a light landing for future flights in The Aviary