Through the tangled vines I heard her say
"It's always dusk somewhere."
I could only imagine her eyes,
glassed over and tilted up like a teacupÂ
balanced lightly on the edge of a saucer.
Day after day I have watched her in the garden,Â
pruning shrubs and planting seeds,
bent in the shade of her wide-brimmed hat.
I have seen the way her gnarled fingers caressÂ
the small, firm globes of ripening grapes;Â
delicate as if they were rosesÂ
about to drop their petals.Â
She shuffles onto the porch at dawn,
sits quietly with her steaming mug.Â
It is neither verve nor vigor that drives her there,
but the desire to live through each fair blossom
in its spring, sift through the perennial seasons
in the rich topsoil and quivering branches.Â
The feathery tops of new carrots thrillÂ
to her touch, the tomatoes blush on their stems.
It's as if they say
"yes, my dear,Â
it's always dusk somewhere,Â
just like somewhere,Â
it's always morning."
| this piece , has a smoothness like Jim Carrol writes. and the flow leads the read into a growth of seasons. Just as if She could be an older woman with a loving touch . Also, the descriptive words use are tactful and complete in their meaning . Over all Somewhere it's Always Morning has an elegant voice , as a lover could speak in ones ear, warm and to the point , it is true too. Ya, a very cool read , thanks for that||| Posted on 2019-03-02 00:00:00 | by teika5 | [ Reply to This ] |