Do the neighbors think my flashlight eccentric or that the cat is missing again?
Everything is awash in lavender-blue moonlight—especially the towering monkshood, cascades of verbena lace, the white snap dragons.
Even the ladders of cathedral bells, the waving French vanilla petunias, chartreuse potato vine.
With the proper tools, the hands hurt less and can be tasked with typing between chapters of tending to the poetry garden, the broken statue of Buddha, the incorrect temperature clock, the unruly clematis of magenta and white striped stars.
I remind myself to install the galaxy app tomorrow to better chart the patterns of sky stars in place amidst the errant airplanes.
To be patient with my elderly mother, help get the loudest niece into a quieter line, and train the dog better. He’s been getting away with small pleasures of late but so cuddly at night.
The new vinyl patio table procured this afternoon and more citronella candles, a Brazilian hammock of chartreuse and violet-indigo and white.
The eyes are tired and well with tears. There is just so much here.