Season In The Sun

The murky, muddy puddles in the street
hasten several robins
bobbing their heads into the wet pavement.
Somehow, the rain is silent.
I sit on the front porch,
anesthetized by time and summer beauty.

A fuchsia plant hangs like a jewel of
the soul in the backdrop, pinkish and
full-grown.
Life is just solidly basic.

With the glamor of the back deck
and having been in the spa, I
run out to grill steaks and fry potatoes,
giving the dinner feast, hungered passion.

Have you done it all for me?
Everything tastes like the lips of summer
daisies.
I cannot forget where I come from.
The earth sounds beautiful as I twist
off a dead flower.
Life is so satisfying.
The marmalade sun offers gracious greetings
for another summer season.