Redwood tree absorbs the mist.
Jasmine fragrance fills th air.
Scarlet, hot pink, peach, orange and multicolored
rose blooms grace the garden wall.
Hummingbirds drink nectar from the feeder
in the lilac bush.
Morning joy.
Delights 6
hummingbirds
Delights–2
As a person who works with high school students mostly non-white, many of whom have family members who are undocumented, I worry and need to find daily delights to stay sane. I decided to make a list of some of the past week’s delights:
-afternoons 70 degrees, sunny, no wind
-hummingbirds sipping nectar from both flowers and the two feeders
-singing a song the lyrics of which come from a poem by Langston Hughes where he dreams a world with no racism
-sitting on the back patio, listening to birdsong while I read a book about delights
-learning that all the rains have eliminated drought in California
-appreciating all the colors of the flowers blooming in my yard
Perfect Spring Day
They tell writers, “Never ever use cliches.”
Sometimes I question that. When you
word a cliche, nearly everyone knows
exactly what you mean. For example:
This is a perfect spring day:
-birdsong wafting here and there,
mostly mockingbirds except for those
irredescent, orange-throated
hummingbirds at their feeder
-wind singing through the pines
-open windows for a change; it’s
75 degrees and sunny
-magenta and scarlet bougainvillea
climbing the garden wall
-white and lavender lantana
outdoing themselves with
spread and bloom
-geraniums in full flower
-mint growing so fast and tall
I already need to trim it.
I lounge on the patio reading
another novel, drinking rosewater
lassi, munching mixed nuts.
I feel gratitude for this
perfect spring day.
writingontherim 