Scattered Thoughts, while waiting (no war yet)

Coolish mornings, hot hot afternoon,

Waiting to see what happens
Is like bombs falling from the sky
No one knows.

Is this how it’s always been—
The Cuban Missile Crisis, Invading Iraq—
Americans on the seat of their pants—
Put down the remote and go outside.

My mind swirls in a thousand directions,
My body is at hyper-alert,
All it takes is just one mistake—
Hold on!! There’s a cardinal at the bird feeder!

Sometimes I say to myself:
I can’t take anymore, then . . .
The youngest asks for bubbles and
I find I can go on.

After a rainy night, the peonies look like melted wax,
piles of petals at the base of the bush,
mounded, cascading, spilling all around.
We’re not at war, yet.