At Last
Only if things would stop happening.
A flurry of appointments, a call,
A matter of money, a walk in on me while
A thought can’t wait to be put down.
I’m staring at the sunset, all is calm.
Raindrops in the puddles, brighter
And brighter still. Then poof,
Down she goes and we are swamped with
The surge of life, the social calls,
The dressing up to look conscious
When I’m not. But why not just say no.
Enough is going on just looking out the window.
Brighter and brighter still now
The hour after the sunball drops.
They say at the end one sees a bright light
But how will you ever if they keep interupting you.
I’m watching again, all is calm
A few minutes at the window
To read a psalm
Rake my last wind row.
4 thoughts on "At Last"
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I love “The surge of life, the social calls.” It’s like a summary of the piece.
Such a fun, whimsical poem. Rhyme scheme is very creative and fresh with ‘calm’, ‘psalm ‘, and ‘calls’. Then ‘no’ ‘window’ and ‘wind row.’ Not sure what a wind row is, but I can imagine it — and I’m quite sure what I see in my head is not what others may see, which is part of the fun of the poem.
Nita Marie, How ’bout “when I’m not but why not just say no”
Such fun, as you say. Wind Row is the last row you mow because you’ve been mowing into the wind so they don’t blow away..
That is a line that is both witty and fun, yes!
Ahh, since I rarely mow grass, I did not think of that. I have raked a lot of leaves in my time; however, I was thinking about how the wind keeps blowing the raked pile of leaves before they can be transferred, safe from the wind, into the bag.