AUGUST cinquains: blogging

Blue jay
intimidates
the smaller wren, but not
for long. Then, hungry Woody pecks
his fill.

Drowning

out the 'chit-chit'

of the redbird, neighbor

decides to use the vacuum on

her car.

Robin

and brown thrasher

bathing together--fresh,

cool water. A high heat index

forecast.

Juvy

house finches stop

by the full, rain-freshened

birdbath as if to say, "Hey, you

go first."

Oh, my!

The mockingbird

in the nearby holly

is as loud as the panel truck

passing.

Mama

brown thrasher takes

time out from her brood, rests

a l-o-n-g time on the rim of the

birdbath.

Silly

young hummingbird

eschews the colored blooms

and hovers close to the resting

black cat.

c 2019, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Poems from the Unpublished card file - August

1997
God's feathered fools
surely remain in the woods
of cat heaven
[image from Charles Allbright's AD-G column]
~~~
2000
today, calico
following MY lead
naps at my bedside~
~~~
2005
picking his garden
with a dead leg and a cane
92-year-old
[image from Jay Grelan's AD-G column]
~~~
2006
fishing the river
snake holding a live catfish
floats near my bait
[image with no attribution]
~~~
2010
a late breakfast--
shall I take an early nap
or eat some ice cream?
[I did both]
~~~
2015
new grocery list
cat food, calcium
and coffee
~~~
2017
Second
blooming this year,
the Encore azaleas
brighten the mid-summer landscape's
green-ness.

c 2017 PL dba lovepat press

Yucca - one of the long(er) poems in my new book, Hiding Myself into Safety

Yucca in Winter - PL

Yucca

Granddad must have loved       
yucca, planting it in front
of each house he built, even

the one for himself and Grandy.
Eighty years later, I betake myself
street-side at that ancient house

where—in the past—someone
planted iris, thinking to soften
the unfriendly yucca?

In early August’s coolness, I snip

brown tips of iris blades, yank

yellowed leaves. With gloved

fingers spread like hen’s feet,

I scratch away dead foliage,

 nested oak leaves.

Each old yucca--bottom dead--

I pull over like a naughty child (and there

the simile ends), sever each base.

Did I hear them sigh, as if glad
to be shed of holding upright
the newish green rosettes preening

like teenage girls waving at passing cars?
Several baby plants peek among the iris.
Callously, I yank them up, throw

on the growing pile of detritus
Even so, four passable yucca plants still
center the green and clean bed.

Later, I receive my reward: a tall bloom
stalk that eventually opens to an ivory torch.
Perhaps that’s why Granddad loved yucca.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


PL c 2016

August poems - cinquain sequences

Thank goodness for air conditioners

 

 

 

 

Grass needs water, too

 

I pull

grass by handfuls

from the newly-planted

holly and azaleas, grass that

grew like

 

ivy,

thieving water

meant only for the shrubs.

At least, in this arid summer,

grass lives

 

and thrives.

On my knees, my

fingers, like lips of cows

cropping pasture hay, tear at its

trespass.

~~~~
 

The Contest

 

Hearing

cicada's call

nearby, I look to see

the cat, which has batted it to

the grass,

 

and now

sits guard, teasing,

ignoring eerie screams.

Flyswatter in hand, I rescue

the beast,

 

flicking

it. Flying low,

the insect leaves, but cat

gives chase, bats it down again. It

escapes.

~~~

~~~

c PL 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

School begins again - without me, whee!

a bed of cosmos
surrounding last year's sandbox
rusting Tonka truck
~~

overnight
the lilac beautyberries
turn purple
~~

a summer lunch
seed-freckled tomato juice
in the saucer
~~

round and round
on the notebook spiral
a tiny black ant
~~

the creek's coldness
rustling over gravel bar
an orange leaf
~~

c 2014, Pat Laster dba lovepat press