A patio of brick set in sand by
a wanna-be engineer-sister, sunny
spots hot against bare feet, pattern
of herringbone overlain with shifty
shadows of folige set in motion
by an unseen breeze sifting through
nearby pin oak trees, dogs panting
in the shade of a spreading ash tree.
Dad reading the morning paper
in old pajamas, his cup of coffee
cooling on the patio table while
savoring the early morning silence.
Splashes of pink, orange and
cherry impatiens banked against
evergreen shrubbery bordering
two sides of a hundred-year-old
rambling country home.
Ten-year-old Brian standing on
the porch roof with a friend, both
sending model airplanes crashing
below in a mock WWII battle.
The drone of the riding lawnmower
drifting across our shady acres, Mom
guiding it in overlalpping concentric
circles to its finishing run.
first published in Illinois State Poetry Society
©2017 Bonnie Manion