Minutes From A Garden
Small beetle’s back becoming neon
in afternoon sun. Ants, buzzing fly,
busy spider aims to connect my wobbly
bench to clay pot of straggly geraniums.
Good luck, ambitious one; I had projects.
Everything on the clothesline animated
by shy breeze and this warm sun
between cloudy, wet days,
not far from gravelly beach,
where my life has settled.
Birds flirt, warn, build, betray—
speak out about me and well-fed cats
that would silence their chatter.
Motionless, I’m here, not opposed
to any of this, no longer restless
to fly elsewhere but to collect clothes
that I’ve been staring through
while waiting for them to dry.
* published by Beliveau Review (Stratford, Ontario)
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