Into
town for an hour, for serious tasks, such as banking (using financial formula:
take money from a,
feed b)
and acquiring car fuel. Smuggled under my grey suit jacket, a lining of cerise
pink satin. Blatant polka dots on a scarf.
Home
to my red and mud coat, home and out: here strolls me, there pelts Dog, through
the clasped hand angles of the woods. Under the shaded steep slopes, a hundred
tunnels lead to a hundred underground lives: tentacles of a terrestrial alien
city. Out from branches, ferns, brambles, crisp fallen leaves, out to the
furthest field, to a prairie of stalks: here strolls me, there pelts Dog; soft
rain touches, hears my plea for the washing on the line, moves on.
In
the hedge, in warm wraps of sun, bright pops of ripe strawberry.
 |
| This is Strawberry Pig- most famous berry I ever picked |
..."here strolls me, there pelts Dog"...
ReplyDeleteEven the simplest-seeming phrases are so evocative.
The simplest acts are often so evocative, I like to note and mark such moments. Thank you Jacqueline :-)
ReplyDeletei love the way you describe your coat--and are you going to try to sell you pig berry :)
ReplyDeleteLynn- Boy ate the pig berry- with permission of course. So the picture is all that exists for sharing now!
ReplyDelete