Monday, July 20, 2009

A Backyard View: as above so below

The lower basin has begun to cool
An hour before dusk the mercury droops toward the lower registers
Block after block of over-watered lawns still simmer
a blanket of condensing vapor infant tule fog

Come morning the ancient desert sun an over ripe tomato lingers late over tepid coffee

Our pensive blue crescent will rise quietly mid-day
She's taking a break from the work week schedule and
scans the anniversary news
Beached for now with a bruin's belly promise she'll steadily gather girth



I'm down here watching from below
working the plot
for Grandmother's winter garden



Though the thermometer read 103 degrees, the squat little fellow ran determinedly, back and forth across the flat expanse of front yard.
The neighbors didn't take notice. Even old Mr. del Papa was watching the moon landing on TV, under a steadily spinning fan.

He knew the basics of what he needed to do.
Bud had taught Barry to hold the string close to the kite, lift your arm above your head and run like hell, till you feel a tug. When the tug was steady (providing you could muster up enough breeze with out falling over), let little sips of string, slip through your fingers, an inch at a time.

Sure wish to heck Bud were here now. He's tall enough to stand over on the McLanahan's side. Lift the kite way up above his head, so a guy can start with some height.
He'd be coming home soon, now that he was through with the Navy.

Gotta get this damn thing flying!

Tess stepped out onto the porch and watched the youngest turning a brilliant, sweaty red, back and forth, grinning at his older sister with that look.
She grinned back and sat on the stoop, carefully, so as not to burn the backs of her bare legs.

103! What a glimpse into Hell!

Things had been kinda awful for most of the year. She hadn't been able to feel enthusiasm since the move down here, three months ago.
But she hated showing how sad she really was. Mom was working so hard trying to get her feet on the ground.

Still, the steadily growing gloom inside was beginning to work Tess over. It was so bloody hot! Going outdoors took an act of sheer courage. But she HATED being In-doors.

Aw, Hell! Look at that little guy! He's gonna croak!

Landing on the moon...very scary and very cool. Mom had even borrowed a portable T.V. to watch the event. Tess could hear the fearful excitement building in the newsman's voice. She pictured everyone around the whole world huddled around a billion TV sets.

Everyone on Earth! All holding their breath at this very moment.

Ha! And here were she and Barry! Trying to get a kite up on this dank, sweltering day.

Perfectly perfect.

"Hey buddy," she hollered.

She hadn't heard the sound of her own voice in eight days. Neither had anyone else. Barry stopped in his tracks, staring at her, startled and immediately thrilled. His look bore straight into her eyes, trying his four year old best to keep her engaged.

She smiled again and nodded her encouragement.

That odd swimming sensation began. It was visiting her more frequently. Late nights listening to the radio when she couldn't sleep, Tess would lie in the dark, staring at a candle, listening to the distant trains switching cars. The rattling chains from hell. She found them good company in her present state of mind.

At times, this thing, like a gentle blather of wings down deep in her groin, would tickle it's way up towards her belly button where a horribly annoying itch had persisted for days.

Barry's eyes were now burning brightly.

Both grinned at each other. He then spun about to resume his running effort.

Watching Barry, Tess felt the low tingle ignite into a flame searing a path up past her throat. A dry, power-ball of tears torched everything else away and came blasting out, towards the little spruce tree that marked their new boundary.
When Barry reached that far end of del Papa's yard, a sudden stiff breeze snatched the stretched piece of paper and ripped the raggedy-tailed kite free from his sticky grip.

To his astonishment, up it soared!

Through the open door, Tess heard, "Houston, we have touchdown!"

"Thank Goodness!", she remembered to breath.

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