Aged arthritic gnarled yet standing stoically still
like a proud old man, Poplar provides passage
between bent legs ... an aroma of moist soil
permeates early morning's mist from eve's
rain drench ... stroll's sneaker suck splash
is no issue with appropriate apparel.
Pop ushers us onto the path, visibility dim, yet
disperses with each careful step ... sounds
of wing flap, caws, squirrel skitter, twig snaps
auburn fox, fleet of foot, flashes color in his run-by
windowless gray stone structure, doors open
bids a visit ... green garden gloves, trowel,
galvanized bucket, planting shelf indicate
recent care ... outdoor garden rose laden,
scents transcend the soul, red, yellow,
white, peach, pink hues heavenly
further on mists begin to lift as sun breaks
through dividing rain clouds ... azure sky
widens slowly to fully bright, beautiful
clear view enthralls, nature nurtures
the walk back is drier, crunch caked caper
I playfully kick it onto your sneakers
then run ... you let me run to Pop first
then you and I, hand in hand wave
goodbye to the old man.
© Carmela M. Patterson, All rights reserved.