Day of Splendor of the Month of Names

Kansas: 94º and oppressive.

Ruth is about ready to put me on a spit and roast me til I'm well done at her long-pig luau. Probably a few old friends and family members have felt that way about me from time-to-time, too.

IMAGES:

5 minutes in the parking lot: dead leaf, dead shingle, dead branch; a mini-tree festooned with dozens of double pink-violet rose-of-sharons; muffler-music, the melody of Marilyn's old BMW; heat pressing in; a man in a red cap, yellow pants carrying a blue and orange bag.

Thinking of you:

Gary turned 5! One whole hand full of fingers. But it's a chilly, rainy day in West Seneca, New York: 63º
And not much better at Shelley's in Monroe, Washington: 60º
It's 66º in Plainfield Vermont where Goddard is and 57º at the other Goddard in Port Townsend, Washington.
61º in the garden city, Victoria, British Columbia.

I was thinking of cool places.

Retired poem of the week:

What the waves knew

Red sails
in the sunset,
one woman, one dead man,
rubies drying in the bloody sun
lit sand.

© Kåre Enga 2007