Afternoon Passes Through the Garden

by Chani Zwibel / July 29th, 2018

Love the live lush rush and fall
of afternoon sun on a garden wall.
Crumbling red brick embraced in vines.
Breezes that light in tops of pines.
Grey-blue flagstones edged in clover,
bumblebees bounce and gambol over.
Soot-stained ring of cinder blocks,
where tongues of fire have their talks.
Peering past the garden gate,
I sip my tea and let dreams wait.
Here, one hides ‘neath colt’s foot petals,
here one gathers thistles, nettles.
There, one chases a honey bee,
there one lounges next to me
on the wicker garden chair,
in a dress all gauzy fair.
When I search, I find them all,
crouched near now shaded garden wall.

Chani Zwibel is a graduate of Agnes Scott College, a poet, wife and dog-mom who was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but now dwells in Marietta, Georgia. She enjoys writing poetry after nature walks and daydreaming. Read other articles by Chani.

This article was posted on Sunday, July 29th, 2018 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.