Thursday, May 19, 2011

in the violet light

Seeing the sun for the first time in weeks, my car fixed, stopping by the house to see that everything really is growing, even little wisps of carrot top are poking through the dirt, and then deciding to rip out all the growth that took over the side by the driveway to put in something else to fill in what the lobelia and the portulaca doesn't cover. I met the new neighbor's son and he seems all right.

I was going to do that tonight, but saw that the grass at the house I'm staying at was about six inches high and I haven't mowed a lawn since I was a teenager, having been a renter and having siblings when I lived at home. Push mowers weren't made for this kind of thing but it was a good workout and an easy way to tune out the neighbors across the street having drama with each other, thankful that I don't own a house or have unbearable neighbors.

I can drink and smoke on the porch if I damn well want!... You're raising your kids wrong and trashing your landlord's property.... what's your problem anyway why can't you mind your own business... I'm an old lady all I want to do is sit on my porch in peace. If I could I'd move somewhere else but I can't...

but the sky is fading into deepening shades of blue shot through with purple, the church tower to the north glows golden, and the cats want to get out and be feline, and one just scaled the porch screen to the ceiling. The people next door are speaking Portuguese, the bugs are already coming out, there are echoes of birds and kids running in someone's yard, the silhouettes of power lines contrast with the fading light.

I'm finally feeling the shift of the seasons and all that it is.


Randal Graves said...

Carrot top? Push him back down!

Tell me you got some swanky shots of that sky.

Anonymous said...

This Morning

Enter without knocking, hard-working ant.
I'm just sitting here mulling over
What to do this dark, overcast day?
It was a night of the radio turned down low,
Fitful sleep, vague, troubling dreams.
I woke up lovesick and confused.
I thought I heard Estella in the garden singing
And some bird answering her,
But it was the rain. Dark tree tops swaying
And whispering. "Come to me my desire,"
I said. And she came to me by and by,
Her breath smelling of mint, her tongue
Wetting my cheek, and then she vanished.
Slowly day came, a gray streak of daylight
To bathe my hands and face in.
Hours passed, and then you crawled
Under the door, and stopped before me.
You visit the same tailors the mourners do,
Mr. Ant. I like the silence between us,
The quiet--that holy state even the rain
Knows about. Listen to her begin to fall,
As if with eyes closed,
Muting each drop in her wild-beating heart.

Charles Simic