WONDERFUL !!!! YOU DAD WOULD BE PROUD OF YOUR WORK–RH?
His mother named him Carlos, such a strange name for a Welshman. Perhaps she loved Spain. I said goodby to him you by a bed near a window deep with winter.
Summers heavy cloak hung
over fields of Goldenrod,
their long limbs reaching
out to mesh with spiky
leaves that sheltered
bundles of marmalade florets.
Their invasion of the meadow
met with merciless machetes
that hacked through unwelcome
invaders who hadn’t the courtesy to
extend a pleasant fragrance.
The trail led to an arbor nestled
in a stand of trees to a brook
trickling lightly through a trellis
where never ending appendages
wound and weaved through a
dense clusters of bulbous
clinging tenaciously to their host.
The scent of peppery earth stung
our nostrils and attracted white tail deer
that ravaged the vines of their treasure.
The old man snaked a garden hose through
the lattice to…
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