At Dick’s Place

1

Turn left out of the door

follow the stepping stone path through the garden

try not to trample plants growing in cracks

tread lightly don’t trudge as you traverse the house

avoid the path made of flagstones that’s almost a stair

take the longer path more suited if a wheelchair

go down to the dogwood

and scent of phlox

there’s a path like a buttonhole

surrounding the dogwood

another to the west leads to raspberries

if you keep straight on

you’ll find a white gate

marking the line that’s marked by rocks

standing by the dogwood

with dark clouds very high

proceeding eastwards from a reddened sky

inhaling scent

pink and white flowers thigh high lighting the path

that led to a white bathhouse

whose windows and skylights

old growth cedar and oak trim within

all came from our old place

even the door

that was the same stout windowed door

set in the west wall of cedar shake siding

that opened once to the laundry room

that dated back to the twenties

when that house much lived in

came with a farm

acreage sold off to pay for illness

thirty paces from dogwood to spa

through a garden of rosemary

sorrel chives snapdragon sage

thyme oregano beloved of bees

mint calendula basil arugula

horse radish beets lettuce poppies

swiss chard full flowered let go to seed

2

Whenever privacy allows

I think of you

still with me

hearing warning notes together

or a Swainson thrush

shy in the woods

you whose smile stays with me

3.

Now it’s dusk

I can be alone

attempt to hear again that quiet music

that only gets louder when you start to listen

Dick Russell © Richard M. Russell

               2019, 2024