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.