Thursday, July 28, 2005
Clippings
I watch the pretty things flutter by;
They stop to smell my flowers.
(Once a hummingbird hung in the air and let me watch him.)
I've planted nothing, only been blessed.
(So very careful, each color blooms in succession.)
By someone else's planning.
(Purple, then blue, then purple again, then yellow.)
I'm not a shut in, but I don't get out much.
My legs are sore, and the medicines keep me groggy.
(Bad knees, bad feet, and so very groggy.)
Purple comes first in the spring, in several varieties.
(I always pointed this out to my guests.)
Lilacs are the only ones I know by name.
(I always asked my guests if they knew the others.)
Blue comes next. There is a red birdfeeder.
(It's red and clear and cheap and pretty.)
Someone must've left it behind.
I've meant to fill it.
(I looked at the price of birdseed at the store, but it was a tight week.)
I've meant to weed.
(I really needed some gardening gloves.)
One morning I awake.
The shimmer of shadows through the blinds,
It's shaking from a violent hand,
To a violent noise.
(I'd've been awake, but I had nothing to do that day.)
Buzz, buzz, buzz...
They're cutting, pulling, weeding the grapes
That grew up my window screen,
(They tore little holes that gnats get in through.)
The raspberries that grew just outside my window.
(I'd once, as a lark, removed the screen, picked straight from the sill.)
I get up slowly, angrily, at being wakened while the light was still dancing.
I walk outside to better see what they are doing.
They apologize for the noise.
A pit grows in my stomach, my lilacs, and my raspberries.
They cut down the birdfeeder,
They say HUD came through, it was for safety.
I say to them I like the woodsy flowers,
They say HUD came through, it was for safety.
They were afraid someone would break in,
Steal my meager belongings,
(All I wanted to own was in those beds.)
That no one would notice if I needed help.
No one noticed as I hedged the subject.
I'm not a shut in. I get out sometimes.
I've meant to pick the birdfeeder up
From the ground where they left it.
I've been blessed they they left it at all.
I watch the pretty things flutter by;
They stop to smell my flowers.
(Once a hummingbird hung in the air and let me watch him.)
I've planted nothing, only been blessed.
(So very careful, each color blooms in succession.)
By someone else's planning.
(Purple, then blue, then purple again, then yellow.)
I'm not a shut in, but I don't get out much.
My legs are sore, and the medicines keep me groggy.
(Bad knees, bad feet, and so very groggy.)
Purple comes first in the spring, in several varieties.
(I always pointed this out to my guests.)
Lilacs are the only ones I know by name.
(I always asked my guests if they knew the others.)
Blue comes next. There is a red birdfeeder.
(It's red and clear and cheap and pretty.)
Someone must've left it behind.
I've meant to fill it.
(I looked at the price of birdseed at the store, but it was a tight week.)
I've meant to weed.
(I really needed some gardening gloves.)
One morning I awake.
The shimmer of shadows through the blinds,
It's shaking from a violent hand,
To a violent noise.
(I'd've been awake, but I had nothing to do that day.)
Buzz, buzz, buzz...
They're cutting, pulling, weeding the grapes
That grew up my window screen,
(They tore little holes that gnats get in through.)
The raspberries that grew just outside my window.
(I'd once, as a lark, removed the screen, picked straight from the sill.)
I get up slowly, angrily, at being wakened while the light was still dancing.
I walk outside to better see what they are doing.
They apologize for the noise.
A pit grows in my stomach, my lilacs, and my raspberries.
They cut down the birdfeeder,
They say HUD came through, it was for safety.
I say to them I like the woodsy flowers,
They say HUD came through, it was for safety.
They were afraid someone would break in,
Steal my meager belongings,
(All I wanted to own was in those beds.)
That no one would notice if I needed help.
No one noticed as I hedged the subject.
I'm not a shut in. I get out sometimes.
I've meant to pick the birdfeeder up
From the ground where they left it.
I've been blessed they they left it at all.
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