Love Thy Neighbor

I conjured this little ditty spring of '09 when we lost our dear neighbor, Virginia; every fall I am pulled strongly to think of her  .  .  .

Golden flakes waved through sun and breeze

From darkest branches of sugar maple

All around and above

The neighborhood glowed

A warmth.

On the first early morn

Working on our new, old home

A visitor arrives

With square hot glass

Bubbling with baked grain and cinnamon.

In a dark, frosty eve

We return the walk from

Our yard to hers,

And she welcomes us

Into heat of her house.

We sit upon sofa

Quiet and polite.

Virginia hears much, sees all,

Remembers everything.

She chats and compliments,

Embracing. 

Welcoming.

Calm.

After new leaves sprout

And sprinklers are set,

We perch upon lawn chairs

On the sizzle of sidewalk

Viewing the annual parade.

She summons the kids for candy

With smiles.

Always with smiles.

Before ants attach to wrappers sweet,

Treats are plucked from grass.

Return of the deep, yellowish-orange

Hovering in cool skies.

Geese fly,

And children climb the jungle gym,

Insulated by jackets and caps.

We return to this very spot

Of Autumn.

And I smell cinnamon

From memory

With eyes closed I pause.

Followed by ice and snow crystal.

And then another fresh spring

With lilacs and dogwoods.

Season after season

After season.

Degrees, wet, leaves, and blooms

Roll out, and on, and over.

Keep cuddled and bundled

then free to the sun.

But this vernal period she's left us,

And the breeze is cold.

She waited for our back lights to glow

To reassure of our presence,

But we haven't finished the new, back room,

Yet.

The neighborly dinners

And Ruehl Street teas

I'd envisioned clank loudly

As unfinished deeds.

If only I could have the grace of Virginia.

With a breath I look up,

Because she is home.



(The epitome of loveliness, dignity, and gentleness, Virginia was, indeed, a most fabulous neighbor, woman, and friend.  We miss her.)