summer

She remembers the clothesline just off the kitchen window.

Lined against the bushes of lilacs all blooming in the spring.

Straight lines of coiled wire touching brown decaying wood post.

Each week she would see the lady of the house hang lovely colors,

different shapes and sizes of shirts and pants and little girl’s dresses.

Blues would mix with the pinks and reds, but the whites were always

separate from the others so not to allow the dye to run on them. 

Deep in the summer south the hot wind would bend and sway

against the flag of colors left out to dry until right before afternoon sun.

She then would gather them and fold and lay them in a straw basket

bringing them into the house; the smell would be of the out of doors.

copyrighted:  2016 CMM

Diverse rich molten soils

erupt into twisted hope

with grape-bulging vines…

©  CMM  2015

Napa Valley

Behind aged stone walls,

Italian wine flows as veins

breathed from purple grapes…

©  CMM  2015

Napa Valley

Crayola Colors, bright red, yellow and blue,

round in circles of me and you

All the beginnings are reflected inside

as I watch and I listen to the Ferris wheel ride.

The seats they wobble with you front and back,

don’t look down and buckle the rack.

I love to watch and listen and smell

the time of the Ferris wheel, I remember well.

True loves in height and tumultuous times

Defined by the nickels we paid for the climbs

As we trusted a ride, we would never forget

Arm in arm, hand in hand lovers, we sat.

The Ferris wheel days of cotton candy and games

Hope and promise blended and all seemed the same

As the day before or the day to come

The days of the Ferris Wheel, at the setting sun.

copyrighted:  2014 CMM

Sunrise

Morning on the shores 

brings you back to the place where
you can realize sunrise
in sequential order of
light, flight and the rush of tides…

Copyright:  CMM  2014