Afternoon – Page 32

clumps of garden weeds-
the summer sun warms my back
and eases my mind
–
a golden breeze-
the wind caught
in her hair

down by the river
releasing slights collected
after all these years
–
on my back-
the weight of countless
grains of sand

her face to the sky
sundress plastered to her skin
at one with the rain
–
sandals in hand-
bare feet in
the wet grass

an empty rowboat
tied down to a weathered dock
rocking in the swells
–
salt spray-
the old pier’s
bleached bones

tending his garden-
rich black soil etched deep into
his leathery hands
–
honeybees
a thistle hides
among the roses

an old swimming hole-
piles of clothes left abandoned
on the grassy shore
–
a frayed rope swing-
old memories
bittersweet

your name on my phone-
against my better judgment
I answer the call
–
labor day-
the first taste
of pumpkin spice

turkey tail mushrooms-
beauty found within decay
and reclamation
–
in the dark-
nimble fingers pick
the mushroom harvest

a rusting iron gate-
beyond the overgrown path
crumbling headstones
–
bristlecone pines-
deeply rooted
to the earth

plying the trade winds-
seeking safe harbor under
an ocean of sky
–
rolling seas-
sails reefed
before the storm