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Saturday, September 8, 2012

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A Memoir Poem

When I awoke, there was fresh cold air
From the storm during the night.
Gray light steamed through the open blinds
And I decided to look through the window.
The garden spilled out below.
Purple, yellow, pink and red flowers tumbled,
Not quite buried by the vines and the green.
Silver raindrops glittered on the leaves.
It was very quite, but for crickets and song birds.
Outside the fenced garden there were red brick buildings which
Bled into the neighborhood.
There hung clotheslines with rainbow clothes.
Inside the room a potted plant touched the ceiling,
Its leafy branches making elaborate and twisted shapes.
Their creeping tendrils crept through the blinds.
The clouds had left the world a wonder.

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