May 2024
Author's Note: Trying to slow the march of Father Time is of course an exercise in futility, but I keep trying. One of my battle tactics is to pull up memories from my childhood. Sometimes it works for a little while.
"Crab Apple Tree" Photo credit: j.lewis
the bricks along the flower bed
still want straightening
a daily reminder
they should have been set deeper
or in cement
the grass pretends
that bare spots
are beauty marks
and goes about being greenest
under a flowering crab apple tree
the hollyhocks
once purposeful and confined
have jumped the bricks
and stubbornly refuse
to be restrained
sweet peas wave their frail pastels
in a shy hooray, hurrah
just enough of them
to bouquet our sunday table
chrysanthemums have been replaced
by yellow crook-neck squash
more plant than produce
spreading leaves large and proud
against the dull gray cinder blocks
that keep them from our neighbor
the back yard of my childhood
slips into my mind
in quiet times
when i need the innocent laughter
of running barefoot 'round the tree
while mother hung out clothes
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