Walking back from town after coffee with a dear friend, I came up Church Lane and spotted a couple of treasures among the gorgeous autumn leaves.
Pink hydrangea
Little feather
I have posted a poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer before and at that time, one of my readers told me that the poet publishes a poem a day and that people can subscribe to get these in their inbox every day. So I did and this is today’s poem which really touched a chord in me. I have been given permission to share it with you.
It’s the Forgettable Moments I Miss
I want to be in the garden
with you again,
hands in the dirt,
maybe listening
to cottonwood leaves
spreading rumors
of fall, but maybe
not even listening.
I want a moment
so mundane, just
pulling bindweed,
nodding and humming absently
as you talk about race cars,
a moment so unmemorable
I forget how damn precious
every single moment is;
I want a moment I take
for granted, want to
be bored or even fussy
standing beside you,
the beets too small
to harvest, your voice
rambling on about pole positions
and pit stop strategies,
and me utterly clueless
I would ever look back
and long to hear you
wax on about balancing fuel loads,
worn tires, soft compounds,
anything, anything at all.—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
You, too, can get her poems in your inbox and follow her blog. She blogs here on WordPress at A Hundred Falling Veils
