Last summer in the vertical heat of a noon sun.
I walked – my doctor had told me to walk – the streets near our house.
Under beating rays, sweat beads came easily, trickling my temples.
Each corner familiar, same sights same pace, a ritual.
I was never so happy as that summer (colon cancer notwithstanding).
My gift: the days and weeks of time, alone, with friends, for me to fill with words and music.
Withstanding colon cancer I walked the streets near our house.
My slow pace delivered contemplation, new sights same place, a ritual.
The vacant lot on the new street waiting for a house.
Nature meantime filling out the space, expansive verdant rampant.
Deep in the green tangled growth smoldering ochre shone.
I waded out among the weeds, closer craving intensity.
Such earthly suns seared the wax dripping from my wings.
Today outside my window the lifeless end of grey winter lingers.
This photograph of Black-eyed Susans makes me smile.