Gather ye pollen
while ye may
in warm and bright
September day.
Tender zest,
to flower,
to seed —
thus does garden
(and life)
proceed.
With apologies to Robert Herrick.
Gather ye pollen
while ye may
in warm and bright
September day.
Tender zest,
to flower,
to seed —
thus does garden
(and life)
proceed.
With apologies to Robert Herrick.
The porch, the porch!
What marvel, it!
Wordless greeting:
“Come and sit!”
In rocker, swing,
or wicker chair,
we bask inside
in outside air.
Gossip, cookie,
sip of tea,
a honk, a wave,
reverie —
we pretend to read,
shaded from sun,
but the book falls away
and we fool no one.
Unwalled parlor
mooring the ‘hood,
big bear hug
from painted wood,
any porch is
fine by me,
but melon-bedecked
especially!
Many thanks to photographer S.W. Berg.
What is it about this image, dear reader, that seems to be a most splendid greeting for Labor Day? Is it the hoorah of the watermelon red? The thick, disciplined hedge? The leafiness of late summer? The invitation to rest? The certainty that somewhere unseen is a sweating glass pitcher of iced tea with Wyler’s lemonade mix (and lots of sugar)?
I pass it along to all of you in hopes that you too can look at it and think of porches and late summers you have known. I wish you a relaxing Labor Day, dear reader, and a good harvest. May all be safe from Dorian.
The hanging basket,
plumply pendant,
becomes a lantern
incandescent,
twinkling August’s
low-flung light
into votives
pink and white.
Summer’s aging
into fall;
twilight’s angle
cuts like awl
through maple leaf
and acorn’d ceiling
while insects call
their raspy reeling.
It’s leggy and seed-headed
brown where once was green
but the garden this September
is the best I’ve ever seen.
My pear tomato plant
bedecked like Christmas tree
has survived in gold and gaudy
ponderosity.