Once Was

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Summer in the south

Eagle and Child Inkling

It is so easy to look back and think,

coffee on the stove, dishes in the sink.

Clothes lapping in the wind outside the door,

floors being swept with straw brooms stored.

Yelling at the children as they begin to play,

telling them ‘stay close’ throughout the day.

Lazy brown dog, sniffing for the shade,

underneath the porch, his bed he made.

Summer heat a rising and clouds begin to form,

nothing more cleansing than an afternoon storm.

Deep within the south, families all know the others,

where Sundays congregate, sisters and their brothers.

Not much left deep within summer’s south,

most of the families are scattered about.

But, if you drive down an old country road,

where there is only dirt, listening to the crickets and toads.

You might in the distance look down path to see,

a barefoot child, stick in hand, chewing on a weed.

©  …

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Dandelions

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ah spring

Eagle and Child Inkling

Dandelions, fields of weeds and scattered seeds,

these golden pollen spread.

The flower sweet,

the pollen wreak,

this lovely enemy of my head.

Dandelion flowers,

pastel fields,

masking ranting weed.

Dandelion flower,

so strong in resistance.

Please tell me, what is your need?

©  CMM  2009IMG_3611.JPG

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