Saudi sheiks and French bankers
avoid this street
with the litter of trees
and traffic from the bars.
No gold paving or upscale shops,
no drug traffic or night ladies
foiled by police.
Only my son-in-law’s smile
and grandson in his straight billed cap,
the air clean from afternoon rain,
bamboo glistening in the iron tub,
strangers walking by with flowers dropping
into cement gone soft from their fall,
as the sky clears and the last of winter
leaves with the night.
Again…what vibrant images…I can FEEL the place and the people!
It’s a beautiful thing to be able to convey a moment with such presence that, for this moment, I saw through your eyes and felt through your heart.
Thank you, Don.
Bamboo….so remarkable a grass! It even thrives in an iron tub. Here in my Thailand neighborhood, groves line the rice fields, singing in the wind…
Can there be a sweeter death in observance than the rear guard of leafdom clearing Winter to welcome the new buds of Spring? I gladly give tearful joy to witness change of season.
So evocative. So REAL.
I love the way you acknowlege the transitions that occur from one season to the next with these ceremonies from your heart. You keep a close watch on blessing what is, which invites us in to do the same .. and more! Thank you for expressing these rhythms of connection.
This feels like stepping into a Hemingway novel. I’m left wanting to read the rest of the story – – –
This is great dad. I’m right there seeing the whole seen. I can especially see Lincoln’s smile at the father in law he loves so much
Great Don, It helps me believe that their will be transition for one season to another which I was not sure of this year.
For me, Don, the last 3 lines
describe what can happen
to a hardened heart…