Silently as if part of a ceremony
pinching off the dead petunias and seed pods
doing this light duty
to help the plant thrive
Tricks my mother taught me years ago
I am sighing
with otherwise zero purpose
and leaning back on the porch
to take all this fresh air in
wondering where it’s been
and where it goes from here
Assuming it must be healthy
while watching Billy Collins
holding court on my phone
and finding that also therapeutic
He’s beaming in from Florida
of all places
reading What I Learned Today
with eyes twinkling
even at nearly 80
hoping I will have a wit even half as sharp
if and when I hit that age
Almost afraid to blink my eyes
knowing from experience how time whooshes through
not unlike this gray wind
that comes when summer winds down
and drops you somewhere else
distracted by your own history or future
and hoping not to be any more grouchy
than what dear Billy is
when there is the inevitable glitch
or simple annoyance
And as I’m watching I am learning indeed
but also veering off
down some side road on a mental map
as my own lines pop up out of nowhere
nagging           begging for attention
pulling my sleeve to get down on paper
as I watch this former poet laureate
finish his literary mission in style
sneaking away to a moody passage of Miles Ahead
as in this corner of the world
the wind blows down pine cones
and this would be poem
off the porch.


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