"Two wrongs may not make a right but a thousand wrongs make a writer.”

Monday, July 29, 2019

Summer Solstice

Strawberry juice on your sun burnt lips
stained fingertips and blackened nails
plucking stems from overripe berries.

You suck the hurt out of your thumb
and scuff the thistle into the dirt
under the heel of your garden boot

and later off with the boots for a swing on the porch
a cup of ice and a bowl of berries
and later still a slice of cheesecake

doused in the juice of all that smashed fruit
and then aperitifs for all your hard work
as we make our way through the house to the stairs

to the bath where coconut breeze soap
from my sister sits fragrant in a dish
and later lathered and bathed and smelling of soap

we move damp down the hall to a room
where the curtains billow out like hand-tatted sails
and the trill of the whip-poor-will calls us to
come, come the day is done.

 
Inspired by the prompt from Imaginary Garden With Real Toads honoring one of my favorite poets, Jane Kenyon.

12 comments:

Kim M. Russell said...

Thank you for sharing your end-of-the-day poem, Yvonne! I felt like I was there with you, smelling strawberry juice on the air. A personal yet universal poem, it appeals to all the senses. I love the fine detail of these lines:
‘You suck the hurt out of your thumb
and scuff the thistle into the dirt
under the heel of your garden boot’;
‘…the bath where coconut breeze soap
from my sister sits fragrant in a dish’
and
‘…a room
where the curtains billow out like hand-tatted sails’.

Liza said...

Oh,lovely. You put me right there and I can taste the strawberries. Thank you for sharing your day.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Kim,
Thank you so much and thanks for kick-starting the juices!

Liza
Thank you.! Thank you for reading!

Helen said...

Immensely satisfying!

Anthony Duce said...

Enjoyed...

Revived Writer said...

I like all the descriptions.

Jim said...

Strawberry juice on sun burnt lips
When day is done the boots come off
You suck the hurt out of your thumb
We move damp, down the hall, a room

Day's end. Itinerant juicers -- Those were the lines I liked, Yvonne. I feel for them, in Texas or California they also may have to worry about immigration authorities.
..

Rommy said...

I love the cozy feeling I get from this piece. It feels like a perfect day.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Helen,
Thank you.

Tony,
Thanks, as always.

Revived Writer,
Thanks for reading!

Jim,
Thanks so much. Here too. They bring in migrant workers to weed the fields of onions and carrots, jobs no locals will do. We are such hypocrites.

Rommy,
I'm glad you got that feeling from something I wrote. Some days are as perfect as it can get. Some are just make believe.

.

The Bizza said...

I love all the sights and smells of a summer evening right before bedtime. Nicely done.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Bizza,
Thank you and thanks for commenting.

judithlinck said...

Hi. I enjoyed your poem.Wish I could eat your strawberries! Judith