Another Grave in the Garden
Hurricane failed to rain?
Leaving passion's steamy heat
whisper then whistle under the covers
like a smoke detector battery gone bad.
Broken on my doorstep
there's a symbol on the knocker:
welcome hearts lost in darkness.
If I patch your wings,
if I calm your despair,
give me pardon.
Your songs bereft and sad,
make healing grow.
Remember moments when the wind
whips up the canyon lifting chamomile seeds
she's making tea to ease your pain.
Tonight begin a life under the rose garden.
The sun blazes down across the sea.
You came home to me.
Photo of tiny bird on my doorstep this morning.
Flycatcher Fidalgo he was a character in my current
novel in progress. Unknown what happened to him.
I have a southwestern willow flycatcher pair that
lives in the canyon below me and nests near my fountains.
They are endangered and don't belong here.
I wish I knew the cause of death...
This guy is buried under this porcelain plate below the
rose cultivar climber Blair Annabella, my patent 1992 named after daughter.
The rose is hearty. Flowers start pink then the petals blush to cream before they fall.
Hurricane Odile hasn't brought a drop of rain here.
Are you living somewhere with drought?
Let me know how you deal with it.