Sweating bullets...Awwww. She's just kidding.
no breeze. no a.c.
balls of cat fur stick to fabric like velcro....
wafts of dirty dog dander.
kittie litter speckled socks.
chip and cookie crumbs...
overdue blockbuster movies.
half emptied deer parks...
blueberry boxes..
Bob calling a dog a precious angel through the window screen...
a maine coon with dreads in the sill considers not getting back up.
Elderbloggers. Our histories. Our stories. Our pasts, presents and futures. Aging. Growing. Maturing. Immaturing. Art. Poetry. Photography. Feminism. Senior Moments. Junior Moments. Life Matters. Grey Matters. All matters. As I put my toe tentatively in the blog pond I invite others to swim, wade, paddle, sputter and splash with me. In my experience, the water’s warmer that way.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
In response,
Anonymous, aka, Kristara (I know it's you.) penned her description of our house in the following comment to my August 18 post.
Nice! The real and the ideal, like swirling strands of chocolate and vanilla ice cream. Both true and linked in one confection?
ReplyDeleteI just found your Blog and I reacted very positively to your phrase 'the sounds of summer screamed gently'. Well, I loved the whole poem. I wonder if you'd like mine. They're very different, a bit trite sometimes and written mostly for fun, but you might find the odd 'phrase' as I've done. Here, in Australia, the Spring is just starting (we think). The idea of summer sounds attractive, but we'll moan about the weather anyway.
ReplyDeleteSounds like my kind of house. :~D
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed both poems.
ReplyDeleteDescriptions in the extreme and somewhere in my memory's, I had a house afixed between. :)
Yes, I enjoyed both too.
ReplyDeleteYa know you're dealing with an animal lover when you see lines like:
"kitty litter speckled socks" and
"Bob calling a dog precious angel through the window screen"!