Joyce S. Brown
I’m a retired English teacher (high school and college) with 53 years of marriage, two children, four grandchildren, one dog. I’ve had poems in Poetry, The American Scholar, The Tennessee Review, Yankee, and others!
First Day of Summer
The microwave chirrs away
at seconds I’ve punched in.
They pass faster than
“one one thousand, two
one thousand” the children
counted playing hide and seek.
Hours slide by scarcely noted,
but here, I stare, as the seconds
disappear: this hour, this day,
my life which will be ‘done’
BEEP as soon as the soup.
From my window in retreat I watch
a nun in habit slowly spreading mulch
on roses in a circle by the garden path.
I think how much she is not--
in her brocaded gown -- like the girl
in "Patterns" waiting for her soldier beau.
She is a bride of heaven, after all,
and does not need to wait
except for rose bloom and the vesper bell.
In Haydn’s Farewell Symphony,
the orchestra gets smaller
and smaller until nothing remains.
In my farewell symphony,
nothing leaves except the composer
whose music has switched
from major to minor key. Leaving
at pianissimo, I see through the car’s
rear window, the house,
the waving trees, the dog, smaller
and smaller, then gone, my dear life
which I won’t remember
once it’s out of sight.
©2016 Joyce S. Brown
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