The ego wants a safe place, and plants a thousand flags. But the spirit — oh, the spirit, has wings.
We were married in January 1976. Our first summer, we had sweet peas that flowered to the top of the fence. Today we have some in a vase. And through the open window drifts love’s fragrance. A bright-yellow tanager sits high atop an open sunflower; a fuzzy black-and-yellow bee lights ever so briefly on tomato blooms below; a pair of wasps tickles the tips of cedar leaves — until love says it’s time to go.
July 4, 2020
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Bees, Cedars, Death, Ego, Flags, Love, Memory, Spirit-Health, Sunflowers, Sweet Peas, Tanagers, Tomatoes, Wasps
William Michaelian 