Sunday summer dinner
on the deck

the air tastes like warm bread rising and
my lover’s brown-pink lower lip.

We sit under an ever shifting
evening sky whose wide pale skin stretches in a pause,
before bursting into a ruby-stained sunset.

The crows – with flight that resembles large, black hardbound books beating their covers with graceless effort –
make their scheduled Westward passage.

(And as such rituals demand, someone remarks on the murder.)

Sunday summer dinner
on the deck

everything is vibrating in a balance of sameness and purpose.
It’s all a prayer of sorts

over some food, a table, our family, and this time.

So now we can see one another
in the twilight,
laughing with stories and the pleasure of hunger about to be met,

And take nourishment
from a life that is ripe with belonging.

© Martha Lee Phelps

About Martha Phelps Studio ~ creative on purpose

...a meandering journal of a changing life and the unexpected graces it brings. Earlier posts may provide some history, but this series of writings aren't likely to follow a straight line as I explore topics such as raising kids, making choices, self discovery, the impact of change on a family and how to (hopefully) live with balance and purpose.
This entry was posted in Poetry (matters), Siftings and Essays of the Heart, Through My Lens and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Please share!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.