The worn path that leads from the tall Oak to the raspberry bushes
reminds me of my grandmother.
She once planted tulips and asparagus,
filling the spaces with blues, pinks, and yellows.
In her cotton dress and wide-brimmed hat,
she dug and sifted, clearing her garden of impossible weeds.
Dreaming of books and poetry. A writer.
I only knew her in her garden.
#npm
We sit, laptops open.
Did you know too much happiness is a bad thing, he asks.
Hmmm, are we too happy?
No, he said.
The cat yawns.
The dog scratches.
Did you know eating fish three times a week prevents heart attacks, I ask.
Hmmm, we eat it twice. Is that enough?
Yes, I said.
The cat stretches.
The dog sighs.
We are fine, you know.
Yes. I know.
#npm
#npm
Cold fingers
Cold toes
Cold nose
Chills, aches,
Pain like little needles.
Air conditioners whir and churn .
Give me a hot day under a tree, a breeze by the beach.
I dread the coming of the machine.
The ocean cracks against the shore,
I listen once again from my bedroom.
Falling asleep, I imagine the creeping waves, reaching and rescinding,
the sound changing only with the tide and wind.
We could learn much from the constancy of nature.
#npm prompt: constancy
The Run
Celebrate the run though the distance short. The getting out, putting one foot in front of the other. After, I say, I will celebrate after.