of dawn and thee
it starts with two, as is right,
for then there must be more —
so scripture says …
I nestle in my tiny alcove
just left of attention;
while Fran seeks a softened rock …
and together we watch the dawning.
I read her a poem I wrote a bit ago,
that seems appropriate
to time and place …
There is a struggling vine out back
curling about the arbor bench
in valiant defiance of fate –
soil poor, exposure shaded dim,
and little care save wind and insects.
Yet, I will spend some time each day
to watch its gradual change –
from tawdry leaves of verdigris
to its many hues of pageantry.
Its dreary life invokes pity,
and my scant attention feckless;
but all year I know of its soul
that will command attention now!
This thought is but allegory,
of the hidden spirit in all;
that I speak of the child next door –
ignored until she is a crone.