At Dusk by Sylvia

at dusk

at dusk, i leave,
just as the lightning bugs arrive,
the warm glow of yellow lights
softly pulsing…
tapping out a unique version
of Morse code…
the white, billowy clouds
of a summer day,
lose dimension
and become shadowy silhouettes
pasted flatly against a twilight sky…
a yard ablaze
with colorful flowerbeds,
earlier awed over
and envied for their beauty,
recedes into the blossoming darkness
it was a day of laughter

and happy, smiling faces…

of chatter and camaraderie
and the ignorant bliss of childhood
then comes the leaving…
the driving away…
the honking of horns…
the waving of hands
and yelling of goodbyes
from a chorus of voices…
a steady stream of raw emotions
flows back and forth
between those who leave
and those who stay…
until the voices trail away
and the faces in the car windows
have long disappeared,
and this, another day,
has already found its place
in our memories
Sylvia L. Mattingly
July 30, 2020
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Photo by Mike

The Travelling Cat Chronicles

“The Travelling Cat Chronicles” by Hiro Arikawa

When I borrowed this book I was expecting a silly cat story. Boy was I wrong! This is truly a chronicle of a cat who traveled. In fact he traveled all over Japan. The cat is the narrator and he is very funny and wise. His relationship with his master was one that made me smile page after page. This small book is packed full of interconnections of small boys as they grew into adulthood and the emotions run the gamut. I recommend this book for anyone who is an animal lover, especially a lover of cats.

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A book that “speak[s] volumes about our need for connection—human, feline or otherwise” (The San Francisco Chronicle), 

A Single Drop of Water

A guest who shares her poetry with us from time to time, Sylvia, is my niece and my friend. I love her work and this is one of her poems that touches me anew each time I read it. Thank you, Syl, for sharing with us.  

A single drop of water

In the grand scheme of things, I ask you this…
In a single drop of water, what is the significance

A single drop of water after a rain can hang precariously off the tip of a leaf
And sparkle like a glistening diamond any rich man might bequeath
If it were among the multitude, it would not be as a glistening stone
And it would fall from the weight of the many that could not leave it alone

A single drop of water can be a magical thing when kissed by a ray from the sun
It can become as a prism splitting light into colors, making light beams come undone
If it were part of the many, it could still make a rainbow…a beautiful expanse to be shown
But be nothing more than a part of the whole with no beauty all of its own

A single drop of water in the cold wintry sky can be frozen into a pure flake of snow
And float to the ground in a silent descent to an extended wool mitten below
If it were part of the multitude, one of the crowd, the single snowflake we’d never see
We would never appreciate it’s delicate beauty or it’s scientific intricacy

A single drop of water can slide down a cheek lending evidence to sadness inside
Creating a track, to mark the course, of emotions we sometimes can’t hide
If it were a piece of a torrent of tears that might stream down a disheartened face
It would not be the first tear defining the rest and setting the course for the race

Was it unclear in the grand scheme of things what the value of a water drop might be
If a single drop of water were but a part of the ocean it would simply be lost at sea

Written by: Sylvia L. Mattingly 11/21/11

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Photos by Pixabay