Monday, August 10, 2020

Poems: Untitled Cinquains for August

Shadows of Summer

At dusk,
a firefly joins
me on the porch as I
cool off from yardwork. Is it a 
"Peace!" sign?
~ ~ ~

A squirrel
chirrs forlornly--
its nesting tree was trimmed
and its life-long homeplace was hauled
away.
~ ~ ~ 

Branches
of the "shoe tree"
cut back to lose burden
now that the roadside has a new
owner.
~ ~ ~ 


Foliage
shades the rocky
roads to the riverbank.
A cold spring feeds the swimming hole:
childhood.
~ ~ ~

Impressed
or chagrined that
I gave the right answer
to a riddle the collegian
offered?
~ ~ ~


Grandpa
shows his grandson
an old-timey shoe horn.
"Can you play me something on it,
Grandpa?"

Slight breeze--
slight tinkles from
wind chimes this cool morning
in early August. Has summer
broken?


c 2020, PL, dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA