The great tree on the corner of the front yard stretches, back cracking, sending a shower of dead bark and limbs to scitter-skat among the mulch at its base. An old crow laughs from its perch in a not too distant neighbor.
It is cooler here at the edge of autumn's dress. It slips over her head and descends now over her brittleness. Still the day will be hot and we'll look back on this moment, of a vapor mouthed cup of coffee to our lip, and wish for it to return.
The new kitten, still fresh from her mom, chases after her sister, elder by twelve years, dogging her steps. Swatting its nose in annoyance, she cries to the young kit, "Don't rush."
Crickets chirrup. Soft clouds troll the blue sky, mighty white whales breaching for breathe. Sun drips its slow ascent, up the hour glass. Grass needs cut, but that can wait. An ant builds its kingdom, one bit of dirt at a time.
Skin firm, flesh crisp, I eat my breakfast, apple, one small bite at a time, though I know it already browns.
Today is a Present, I'd rather unwrap with gentle touches.
written for Imperfect Prose.
OpenLinkNight remains open all day at dVerse Poets Pub, where I am hosting, so if you have not joined in with your own poetic notions, stop on by.