DAWN.
It's time. To tackle the rest.
Sunflower heads. Beheaded a few weeks ago. Left for the birds.
While Cordelia snoozes in late afternoon sun.
And Smokey paws at the door. Are you there?
I am here. He says. Guarding the wall that gapes.
Are you there? He tries again.
Today is the day. To tear apart pots.
To keep some. Ivy geraniums. Lavender geraniums. Favourites.
They have already started to look bedraggled.
The heat of this summer. Warrants one small watermelon.
Never grew watermelon before. It sits in my fridge.
And cats who know how to beat the heat.
Spencer in the greenhouse. Watching.
Bo on her ironing board. Watching.
Tomatoe plants have been tossed. Leaving only kitchen sinks.
Once overflowing benches boast only a few geraniums. Lots of dirt.
And one Spencer. Purring at the door.
With the heat this summer everything is too far ahead.
I know it. The cats know it.
Being watched by Patience. Way up high. Cordelia's house mate.
Blue eyes. Deep in the shadows of what is left of the Innula.
Still cuddling Spencer. The neighbour's cat.
My pots are sad.
The cats are happy.
Smokey dreams by the Moai in his patch of dry grass.
Bunny yawns. Sleepy time. End of day. End of the pots.
And the day is done. The pots are petrified.
And Spencer sleeps in their dirt once again.
No comments:
Post a Comment