My June

The front yard's vibrant-green, clean, etched and
my oak tree in the back is painting winter gaps with a brush dipped in deep-tree green
as the little sticks at the tip-top ends,
stress sticks from storms past,
fall to the ground in the summer winds.









The newly potted tomato plant in my old-brown barrel
appears ready to share fruit,
and the song birds are singing their show-time best,
especially in that early spot of morning when the sun peeks
just above the tops of the trees in the field behind the house.
 



The air sticks to my skin as I barely crack open
the back door;
the sky can't clear itself
but for a few hours at a time.
It's grayish and blue and damp
with moist clouds that float for a few 
then dump their cumbersome load
on the vibrant-green, clean, etched lawn
and the oak tree in the back yard
and my newly potted tomato plant.





The rain prompts the song birds to crescendo-
and so they do.

"The earth is the Lord's and the beauty thereof." From my childhood collection of verses.
Peace. Love, Linda