Adirondack Chairs
Jigsaw puzzle of greenery, the trees
Nestle next to each in the
Sunbathing sideways light of sunset.
The yard in the back is filled with it,
Filled with the late late summer side slant
Of sun.
The plastic Adirondack chairs, left, as we left them,
Me looking at you, maybe my feet
In your lap...
No- it was the yard man that set them ajar.
The one time we sat there, your discomfort
Grated on my tranquil story book
Vision of us sitting
In the sun
Drinking
The Wine.
So we went inside.
Now I see them, those pretend plastic
Pale blue, light blue to match
The house
Chairs of ease,
One chair looking at the other, while
the other stares off into
space.
We meant to build a fire, that
Summer, a fire pit
evening of
Romance.
But I saw your discomfort.
Was it the heat? The drone
of bugs?
The chance of a gnat
landing in your
drink?
Or was it, something
different,
Something
not found
in the
sideways slant of cooling
air.
Was it, something
else,
Off in that horizon,
blocked,
by the pale blue, the light
Blue house.
Something
Cutting your sight
off
From the road.
It must have been, because you said
Goodbye, several times
That summer. A nod, a
kiss and you were
Off,
in your mind,
because you never
Left, but sat in your uncomfortable
Sadness of not
Belonging here, or
Where you thought.
Wistful plans set a
Blaze not by
Midnight cords of wood
in a pile among the
Rocks.
Set ablaze by whimsy,
A promise, not
Promise.
So we sat that summer
and watched the flowers in the
pots bloom
and the rains carry one
away.
And the gnats gnatting
as gnats do,
Cannon balling into pinot,
Visiting, taking up
Residence, in that
Pale blue light blue
House
With plastic mountain
Chairs
On the lawn.
The chairs still sit
askew, still
sit in the slanting light,
Still sit,
Waiting, as I
Do,
For a time
Things
will be
Right with the
World.
We must get to
The other
side of
That summer.
Let the snow pile
High on the
Chairs.
Get to the whimsy and
the Promise.
Watch
the road for a
time
to travel, and not
sit
in uncomfortable
Sadness,
Askew in plastic
Chairs.
Liked
"the gnats gnatting" :D
Editorial
Had an editorial suggestion to replace gnats gnatting with something about them getting into drink to remind us how annoying it is to be stuck at home referring up to first verses. I like gnats gnatting too.
I applaud your strategy in
I applaud your strategy in choosing to cast this poem in short lines: these underscore the immediacy of the language, and also make the whole poem seem like an overheard conversation---with a real sense of the speaker's difficulty in expressing the emotions in the backstory. The poem's spiritual center is the phrase, "We must get to / the other / side of / that summer," and that focuses the force of the poem upon that urgent need. I hope I have not trespassed, here, by stating my honest response. I am really impressed by this poem.
Starward
No trespass
You nailed it. It starts dense with scenery and the beautiful summer but like this year dissolves into lets just get through this. I really like this one as well, if I do say so myself. I so appreciate you giving such detailed comments. We have both been on this site for a while. Thank you again friend.~Debbie
You are welcome, and thank
You are welcome, and thank you for posting the poem.
Starward