First Summer
-For K
I am a happy insomniac-
serenaded from midnight til dawn by
a lovesick Mockingbird.
In the light of day,
too softhearted even for the
flyswatter,
I access it all from my porch-
The way the tiny Goldfinches splash
in a pan of water-
feed each other
thistle seeds.
& I am reminded
of you, the way you
care.
I could make a fine summer list-
Apricots?
Your complexion.
Ten feet tall Hollyhocks?
Your stature.
Then there is the way the breeze sets them
ticking-
floral metronomes
blessedly soundless so that Time
can remain an abstract, something
on the periphery.
The plums too could snap me back
into a world of hours, days.
The plums ripen all at once,
the ones beyond our reach
plonk
to the ground, untended.
But the harvested ones,
jam now,
an open jar of it at your own table
& I picture
licking it from your upper lip.
My yard is full of chase &
indolence.
Darting scarlet-necked Hummingbirds speeding past
floating Yellowtails hovering above a blossom-
Any movement more like a tremble.
The two kinds of sweat:
cold on my glass of iced tea,
then the other-
at your temples,
the nape of my neck.
Inside, a pint of cherry ice cream
puddles on the counter
forgotten, but not
the cherry stem
you tied into a knot
with your tongue.
Green leaves sag in the afternoon heat, the figs
pendulous & warm.
I pluck two from the tree, bring them to you
in the hammock.
It is there I feel
I cannot contain it all-
Not just the way we look
into the blues & greens of
each others eyes,
but more than that,
The way we really see.
