Summer Evening Wandering

Company is coming,
so I wander from room to room
putting things in proper places.

The night air is finally cool
as it drifts through the children’s windows —
I find reasons
to return magazines,
makeshift duct-tape wallets;
to drop off bracelets,
baby food jars filled with water and glitter.

I linger in each room,
the dim and waning light
shadowing small bodies as they sleep,
then turn toward the hallway
and the softness of an old
incandescent bulb
we can’t let go of
shining on the maple floor.

14 thoughts on “Summer Evening Wandering

  1. becomingbuddhist

    Have you read the poet Mark Halliday? His work is much more narrative, more literal, than yours, and yet, I suspect you’d find something in it to like. I was reminded of a line from his poem “64 Elmgrove,” when he says, “I am not a Hindu/I am not at all a Hindu/I like to keep things” (I may be misquoting; the book is in the garage.) I’m drawn to that incandescent bulb…

    Reply
    1. bussokuseki Post author

      I haven’t – I don’t read nearly as much as I would like or should. But I would take your recommendation to heart.

      It is funny you say that about the literalness of the words. I often wonder if my poems are too literal, too much description without enough mystery, for lack of a better word. I suppose it isn’t something I should worry about and simply present the feelings and the moments as they arise.

      Thank you, as always, for your visit and your sharing ~

      Reply
  2. pi314chron

    I could almost feel my blood pressure lower as I walked in your shadow through the house. There is poetry and there is poetic craftsmanship; yours is the latter. Exquisite.

    -R-

    Reply
    1. bussokuseki Post author

      The poetry, and the need to craft it, helps me to pay attention to the world around me…for that, I am grateful. I am grateful, as well, for your generous comment. Blessings~

      Reply

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