The Little Words Mean the Most

Sitting on the porch at night

 

Reminiscing

just me and my pals

the airliner winding down to earth

the woods chorale

a light blanket of "we know what we're doing"

bugs and frogs I suppose

another plane every few minutes

the latest landing nearby

 

Reminiscing

my cousin the carpenter and I

one summer we nailed up a garage for mom

she used it as a gas chamber

rest in peace

 

The dragonfly on her perch

 

Which is a pointy thing

a defrocked garden stalk

she's seated on a stool at dragonfly diner

 

she's

still for minutes surrounded by

insurmountable food

 

then she springs to the sky

to nab a snack too small

for clumsy human eyes to see

 

munching

still again

atop her towering stalk

 

"I never thought," the series

 

I never thought I'd be

leaning on a granite crutch

as I was today

 

Navigating our garden terraces

laid by us to echo her dad's handiwork at home

 

6 kids arose at Lantern Hill

its landscape suitably shorn and sheared

Gramma Jane's nest in declining years

child Alain be praised he moved the

washer dryer out of the basement, eliminating stairs