THIS TIME

over the kitchen, one black walnut is bare
the other’s just beginning to turn yellow

10 pumpkins wait beside the driveway
even before I collect squashes and gourds
from the garden

autumn touches, make my Lady of Spices happy
chrysanthemums and a few poppies
reset to barrels and pots around the barn and kitchen entry

the mums in the barrels so gorgeous
next to the pumpkin-filled wheelbarrow
the harvest in a wheelbarrow – eggplants, too
or vines in the compost

our blooming cardinal flower
makes me wish more had survived, even just one, to remind us

poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson

~*~

Garden 1

For more of my home and garden poems, click here.

ONE BRUSH STROKE OR ROLLER AT A TIME

One of the places I’ll admit there’s progress is in the realm of house paint. The mere fact you can go in and have a custom color on the spot that will match one you had mixed earlier is a huge advance. No more guessing. And that’s even before we get to latex, which cleans up with water, rather than oil-based or lead-infused paints.

No more color chips that were way off what showed up on the walls. Oh, how I remember my mother’s lamenting on that one, especially when they’d hired a family friend who was part of a professional painting crew. She hated the color, especially after they tried to correct it.

Now, if the blue tape only worked so well.

WILDLIFE, CLOSE TO HOME

more squirrels than girls – and there are a lot of girls in this neighborhood

two horny squirrels on a tree

neighbors report a large groundhog … where are those dogs?

possum … how funny they look, running
their back arches, and both ends drop
nearly to the ground
how laborious!

a possum in the bottom of one of our plastic barrels
furrier than I expected
turn the cylinder on its side, still takes a while
for the critter to move off … injured? stunned? no idea

a young porcupine crossing Hill Street four doors down …
a neighbor watching from the stoop …

next night, a dead adult porcupine in the street

on our apron by the back door
a small snake, whip motion,
ever so slowly

Rachel awakens me
for a scurrying, gnawing noise
inside the wall, beside our heads

in the morning, I realize we haven’t heard
the house sparrows nesting in the eaves overhead, either

none of our plans come off as planned
but we keep readjusting

poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson

~*~

Rat Tat 1

For more of my home and garden poetry, click here.