Waiting for My Next Poem to Arrive

Anne Grant

I thought we had a date…

I waited, patiently I thought, for you to arrive

I woke up before the sun, eagerly anticipating your arrival

We wait for you on the patio…

Just so you know,

We are out under the awning

Just over there on the cozy couch

Thankfully, we are in the open air

No screen, no impediments will come between us

Bailey, our soft Russian Blue, nestles contentedly beside me

I take note…he does not seem, as I clearly am,

To be the least perturbed you are late…

His earliest morning appointments

Appear to have already been scheduled

Jeweled, darting hummingbirds, meandering Gamble’s quail

Cooing morning doves, and a copious chattering of songbirds

Have all arrived

I note

On time…

(He is a much better planner than I)

The continually shifting light

Not a surprise,

Yet so revelatory

Does not seem to faze him

I want to ask him if he’s as excited as I

At the moment to moment shifts in scent…

It is July in Tucson, welcomed monsoon season

Blue salvia, summer snapdragon, and crêpe myrtle

All in full flower

Explosions of purples and lavender

Lay their gifts lightly upon the gently moistened air

Offering themselves up

Compelling us to breathe more deeply…

To slow down….

Distracted as I am by the disappearance of Jupiter’s bright glow

And the subtly shifting cerulean sky

I take no notice of your arrival

I first become aware of the moon’s laughter

Turning away from her giggle and white glow

I see you, to my left, only for a few moments

But unmistakably, you are here!

I’d know you anywhere

Dawn continues putting on her morning show

Kissing lovingly each of her newborn lambs

Each blushing a rosy pink delightedly in turn

I know it is you

There in the baby blue sky

I would recognize you anywhere

You are my mother’s child

Dear poem I will write another day

For now, I am content

No longer impatient at your delay

Soothed as I am in witnessing with Bailey dawn’s first rays

Kissing the soft underbellies of the hummingbirds with yellow light

Alongside the arrival of the four newborn Gamble’s quail chicks

Fuzzy and impossibly tiny

Closely attended on their morning rounds

by their doting parents

You don’t even need to apologize…

Would you like a cup of tea sweet friend?