Midsummer

A tray with a rose, a glass,
a wicker chair under a maple tree,
and me in my nightgown because
I have nowhere I need to be and nothing
I need to do. In the basket at my feet green
glass sweats with chill beneath crisp linen.
My feet, bare and nestled in soft grass,
are damp with the leftover morning dew.
Even though
it is only noon I pull the cork,
pour gold into crystal,
slide down in the cushions
and sip
and sip
and sigh.

 

With thanks to First50.com for the prompt!

wicker chair

Advertisements

About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s