Eight Roses

Anna's dog Lucy basks in the outdoors sun on our wooden deck.
Two round bodied bluebirds pay her no mind.
But Anna's other dog Loki ends the silence by jumping against the deck gate.
For now it holds, separating dog and birds.
Eight roses.

Spouse Rosie busies in the yard.
She is turned to her work.
Mr. Sun laps its tanning against the back of her neck.
Satisfying work I bet. A watermelon smile on her face I figure.
Eight Roses.

Fresh top soil tumbles from trailer to garden.
Fencing rises around the perimeter as my back does its work.
Eight Roses.

To the north, neighbor Amanda scratches clay dirt to prepare the lawn bed.
But the tool she holds cannot scare the clay enough to produce results.
Eight Roses.

To the south trails one leftover drain hose, carried away to Allen and Joel's new home 4 lots down.
A one smaller hose remains for another to use.
"Yoo hoo, clay neighbor lady!!"
"No no, you attach to the downspout after the lawn is seeded."
"Yes, yes, it keeps the seeds from washing into the creek!".
Eight Roses.

A mailman slides to a halt in an unknown Saturday car.
Dust twirls behind and over to conceal driver.
Makes one curious. Better fetch that mail.
Eight roses.

We mark our time on this good earth.
Goals are set. And we are rewarded.
The mail clocked in at its so-and-so time.
The noon siren got only one chance to test its strength.
Eight roses.

Daughter Anna's spouse Mike, marks their time apart.
Scented red flowers stand in a glass-watered kitchen vase.
8 more months until he returns.
Eight roses.