It is summer
and I am ill

I am listening
to the blues
to Robert Johnson
and wondering
about crossroads
and old roads
and intersecting paths
and the old ways
chants heard
in lush green leaves
and blessings

It is summer
and I am surrounded
by roses
and lavender
and geraniums
and hanging baskets
with unknown flowers
over the sides
like a floral invocation
to unnamed goddesses

The wind
in the afternoon
It no longer
plays havoc
with my curls
They’re gone away now
wherever it is
illness takes them

At night the air stills
stars sparkle
and glitter
like you once said
my eyes did

It is summer
and I am surviving

and renewal
and relentless sickness
and time
in all its
temporary majesty

20 June 2018
on the Sussex Coast


the fragility of summer

2 thoughts on “Crossroads

  1. Temporary it is… Once we played a game like charades on our family holiday. Mom and I were on the same time. She had a tough word to show, so she simply looked somewhere beyond the horizon and sighed a little. I blurted out “Fleeting!” It was the correct word.

    1. This made me laugh. I could see it so clearly in my head. Plus, you would be so much fun to play charades with but I would definitely want you on my team 😉 I was once in this online training thing for a not very wonderful job. The trainer was pretty wonderful though. It was a very stressful training course. The trainer was an American Buddhist. One morning at the start of a day he said one of the basic Buddhist truths is everything is temporary. “Remember that,” he said. It’s so simple but it hit me so hard. I put it on a post-it note. I’ve never forgotten it.

      However, I really like the word, “fleeting.” It sounds like music. 😘🎶

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