Poem #9: No time for Porridge

Certain foods and images I associate
with a specific season or experience.
When it’s cold, it’s porridge in the Irish countryside;
When the crispness of fall beckons,
homemade ice cream after our favorite Montana hike
provides a comforting way to relax
and finally

How to celebrate that it was finally summer?
Desiring a peaceful respite from
Urban life.
My husband and I drove out
to our cottage by the lake.
The lethargy from the heat had set in
and we didn’t feel
like moving.
At all.

He took off his mask
and I followed suit.
We popped open a chilled bottle of rose
to share.
That horrid beep of the computer reminding us of our meeting.
Dare we attend another zoom call?
My eye caught the stunning sunset,
framed by the treeline.
We exchanged a knowing look and
he shut the computer off.

“Here’s to a rejuvenating time away,” he grinned.

“To more wine and special times together.” I added.

He kissed me and
I was transported to
when we were newlyweds.
Just a few months ago we would have been too absorbed
in the hustle and bustle
to ever slow down and
appreciate each other.

A firefly and then
a family of fireflies
dart around a nearby camp fire.
Their happy movements seem to tell us
we made the right decision.

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