Green Hills Literary Lantern



We Have a Discussion



We relax in Adirondack chairs

on the low wooden deck I built


in the trim little garden

behind our row home.


I place my coffee mug

on the chair’s wide arm,


fold the newspaper, say,

you know, I’d like a house with a view.


She looks at me a moment,

then gracefully opens her arm


out to the view

of our garden.


I nod for a couple of beats.

A long view, I say.


Still looking at me

she sweeps her arm in an arc


leading up to the clouds drifting

high above our shade tree.


With water, I say, smiling, ready now

for the gesture that comes,


her hand cupped behind her ear,

the sprinkler ticking softly.



Edward Adams lives and works in Baltimore, a fine place for a poet because the city demands you stay alert, pay attention.  Recent work has been published or is upcoming in Confrontation, Harpur Palate, Nimrod, Pearl and Quiddity.