It's one of those nights.
Widow's Weeds
Storm hangs over the house, draws me to the front porch.
Swollen creek flattens high grass that needs mowed.
Trees in full leaf after such a long and heartless winter.
Surrounded by verdant beauty accompanied by wind chimes,
close my eyes, my ears adjust to the sounds of nature,
insects, birds, amphibia express their longing for a mate.
Eyes open, I look for you in the lane, the black mud boots,
suspendered jeans, t-shirt sweat stains visible from a distance.
Your garden, still fenced, a riot of weeds and I wonder if
the dillweed that went to seed last year came back,
scent slightly sweet once harvested, permeating the kitchen.
I will mix it with my tears, a bitter brine, marinade for my heart.
6
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That anticipation of do I need to act or can I lay in wait, with lack of a better term emotion, react with the conviction stead fast in your head. I have chopped down the tree if anticipation many times my self. Good rune. Did make me wish a tad that I had a woman to sit and ponder the rules of the universe with.
azzow2
Level 9
May 25, 2018
1
Yes, bittersweet is the perfect word. I can picture it very clearly. Excellent poem!
Tomfoolery33
Level 9
May 25, 2018
1
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