On the first night of July,
Rain whiplashing the roof top
I woke up with a rhythm in my head
Like the sleepy jazzy blues of winter.
On the second day of July
Rainy day and Monday
Wet garden smelling like a river
Turtle doves lingering in the pine tree.
On the third day of July
Garden strewn with twigs
The neglected weigela bursting into pink
Jacaranda saying goodbye in the drift.
On the fourth day of July,
The house fizzled in the heat
Clouds streaming through the mountains
I dreamt of snow on the Kilimanjaro top.
On the fifth day of July
The sun shifted over the canyons
Hummingbirds starlings a blaze of celebration
Flew back and forth, hovering in a blur of wings
On the sixth day of July
Sitting on the swing
We were both quiet
Magnolias in summer full glory
On the seventh day of July
A package came from my friend, a scarf
So much unspoken, so little that can be said
On the eight day of July
Pulling out the old water color set
Painted pink cherry blossoms
I dreamt of a breeze in Spring
On the ninth day of July
Wild geese flew over the old sycamore
An old Mary Oliver favorite
“Tell me about despair, yours
And I will tell you mine.”
My heart squeezed like a bruised muscle
On the tenth day of July
The night was warm and glowing
Washing moonlight and a few late apple flowers
Fell on me
On the eleventh day of July
Quiet glorious summer morning
Palm trees rattling on the hill slopes
The little lost Christmas ball on my tree.
On the twelve day of July
I woke up from a dream walking in a garden
Of an old hidden monastery
Full of grey and silver herbs
Stars over my head like Christmas lanterns
No violence, no addiction, no death, no sickness
My own place, my sanctuary, a place I called soul
Love it, T.A.
Thank you, DT. I’m glad you like it!