Rain painted the backyard green every morning

in early June

 

The maples and oaks spread wide and full

to frame the garden

and the scenery bloomed

 

Carrie came by with jugs

of rum punches and margaritas

we drank on the patio

mid afternoons

laughing silly about life so far

 

There were breezes for a change

We often said, “Lucky us,”

to have redbirds on the grass,

hummingbirds above the flowers

Squire Squirrel watched us silently

with folded paws, we hoped, amazed

 

Carrie came by with grilled sweet corn,

salt and peppered, dripping with butter,

that we gnawed cold with t-bones

 

Our ideas for plays fell apart half way

 

The longing sound of cicadas arrived

much too soon

behind prosceniums of dusk

 

Hearing them, we stood and hugged

in the swinging curtains of the lone willow,

cried at the end of that remarkable summer

when Carrie came by and we lived our parts

on a real life stage in open air

 

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