One Last Time
One Last Time One last summer to smell the green, Water the roses, sit out on the deck drinking coffee. One last sweeping of lady bug carcasses And snaking the toilet with its quirky septic. No more raking leaves, winterizing, Or emptying the water tank before a freeze. No more no more. We are told to hold things lightly In order to let them go. We held on too tight And now it’s time to say good bye. Good bye kissing tree, Good bye bass pond, Good bye blue heron and rope swing. Good bye good bye memories. One last time I want to soak it all in. The bird calls, the low hum of insects, The open sky and mosaic of sunlight beneath the trees. A day can’t be 24 hours—why not forever? Forever golden morning, forever long afternoon. Forever lavender lingering twilight, forever moonlight. Forever the magic of the hour which isn’t an hour, But only lasts a moment. Last walk to the lake to see the wind ripple the surface. We jump ...