Afternoon sun flows over windowsill
nearing my daughter’s dining-room table
where I sit at my laptop, reap my fill
of your blog honoring spring. I’m able
to focus—while Cath and Trudy discuss
their latest art project just feet away—
on your gentle words ranging from precious
beauty of heavens to kiddos at play
to vegetable gardens. I study
your tulip-tree photos, the way you catch
shadow and light, brace blossom to blue sky.
Scrolling back up to your bio, I watch
your photo. Eyes gaze past me, yet touch my core.
My cursor’s finger traces your bare shoulder.
Roger Armbrust
March 15,
2013
