SPACE ETUDE

 

A summer breeze stirred the boughs

of a Douglas fir

and scented the shade settling from above

while from our feet,

         cascading down,

a hillside of grape vines

advertised

years of cultivated love. 

 

Crosswinds of charcoal-seared aromas

         teased noses

                  with picnic promises,

while the circling host and hostess

         decanted vineyard hospitality.

 

The day’s camaraderie, once stirred,

seemed to parade

lingering first at the baby’s crib

then, circling, radiated outward

to the perimeter.

 

At moonrise

         solar lamps directed

the darkening, angled

         walk back

         down

between tangled

         vines and lives.

 

 

Thanks to the Gladharts

Dennis R. Keefe

September 21, 2004