“The clouds push in, the trees are in constant motion. Up here on the hill, as I lean over my peonies one after the other, cutting spent blooms & shaking out the fallen petals, something is trying to get my attention. I have a deep view into all the ways of summer, including the fake hope that things are on the up and up. No, my friends, these flowers are dropping their show, one by one, littering the ground with pretty pillows. Sleep on, sleep on, embraced & held in a headlock by this hazy summer dream. i do love it, as I mourn what’s been lost. Tulips, daffodils, grape hyacinths, lily of the valley. Replaced now by yellowed stalks and even red berries, likely poisonous but somehow alluring. How could I have known that the car would die, two miles from town? Or that some angel would push me just over the crest of the highest point, then kill the engine to watch me roll? I’ve passed many tests in my lifetime, but usually not because I wanted any test, only love or some approximation of honesty. No power brakes or steering, only curve after curve of double yellow stripes to shoot, like rapids, and a slight chance of making it to the low point, and the gas station without an engine. It was a week of trials, and court proceedings for some, of row hoeing & weed pulling for others, of post traumatic stress and amnesia. Ads on Facebook come up for security systems, and designer masks. Lawns get mowed, & odd unintended discussions rise up like fog over the river, only to dissipate, without a proper conclusion. The amazing golden rod, knotweed & all invasive species known to man, grow and grow and grow. Butterflies flit and flex, while woodpeckers knock on corrugated metal. My pilgrimages have been few and far between. I dream of the unerring waters, pouring off sacred mountains. To some extent there’s been fun, and smatterings of affection. There’s been laughter, there’ve been moments of real care. It’s stays woven into the fabric of every good person’s life in fits and starts. But sometimes mission takes all. It over runs the banks of sanity to drive for a higher master. It sets us on a path that draws from smaller tributaries. And when it’s just too hard, all of it, that’s when it all becomes easy.”
