i.
the brink
thick
grasses
thinly woven bricks
beneath; tucked
between flags
that would clip-clop when shoes
struck them broad enough
for confident walking
eyes lifted, many yards before their horizon.
But these are a brink of thick grasses
thinkly woven thin as decoration
between flags, narrow as falling into grass on either side,
straw-colored, declining toward the dormant
winter bed of summer flowers,
annuals waiting without knowledge, spent when planted, bloomed, weeded.
ii.
the brink
grasses
beneath; tucked
that would clip-clop when shoes
for confident walking
But these are a brink of thick grasses
between flags, narrow as falling into grass on either side,
winter bed of summer flowers,
thick
thinly woven bricks
between flags
struck them broad enough
eyes lifted, many yards before their horizon,
thinkly woven thin as decoration
straw-colored, declining toward the dormant
annuals waiting without knowledge, spent when planted, bloomed, weeded.
I am removing five bricks, a total of 75, from in between rectangular flags that are our front walkway. It is too narrow, and tumbling, though fun when straw is soft, is not a walk.
The dark stranger is home, silhouetted in the door, hungry for lunch.
Posted by nancy at February 26, 2013 12:13 PM