We have a lovely screen-in back porch where temps permitting, I love to read in a “S” chair. As you know or will find out, being 70 kind of registers in the psyche. Time is running out. Here’s the latest:
Ancient of Days
From a back porch, I spot a herd of deer,
Does and fawns browsing in afternoon light.
Some stag flashes antlers—points bony spears.
Spooked, they jump the rail fence and disappear.
Absently, I scratch a mosquito bite
And spy a crow preen like a buccaneer.
It wings and fades in autumn atmosphere.
I ponder What is there beyond my sight?
On the sill, her Snake Plant has spots of blight.
As I pour over my life, my career,
Veins bulging on my hands, my speeding years,
I lift my eyes to sapphire skies—so bright—
Secure not to fear, but welcome tonight
And behold constellations’ chandeliers.