Thunderclouds pass, leave mid-afternoon
soothingly sleepy in soft pastels, find myself
wishing back the promise of rain
to the time we peeled off clothes, danced
like natives 'round the horse trough, whooped,
hollered 'till life-giving rain came, cooled parched lips.
Ol' Joe leans against the now squeaky gate, seeks
nightly rub, carrot, but I walk toward our creek, curious if
Passion Flowers bloom vividly as the night you proposed.
Coolness engulfs, a bee drones, light dims. I search, smile
when violet lashes and a golden crown peek from tangled vines
and I become young again ...
all I have to do is wait upon the leaning covered porch
until you ride in from the fields... and this time, promise
I won't insist you shower before you kiss me.
Margaret Bednar, July 10, 2013
This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Imagined by Kerry "Rhapsody".