! ! !! ! ! No Regrets Journal

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! ! ! ! ! Summer and Words ! ! ! ! ! 2015 Issue 14

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! !! ! No Regrets, a journal of poetry, prose and

! ! ! images about the twists and turns in the! ! ! search for love, meaning and community.! ! ! Clayton Medeiros, Editor, Poet, Photographer, ! ! ! claymedeiros@aol.com! ! ! Neil McKay (Johnny Trash), Webmaster.! ! ! Submissions are by invitation of the Editor.! ! ! Epublishing site with all issues of No Regrets Journal! ! ! http://issuu.com/claymedeiros/docs! ! ! Facebook page with No Regrets Journal issues, ! ! ! haikus, poems and photographs! ! ! http://www.facebook.com/NoRegretsJournal

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! ! ! ! ! Sleep and Rain

! ! ! ! There is a sleep that comes ! ! ! ! in quiet certitude across! ! ! ! green hills, of dew steeped! ! ! ! grass. Wet foot prints in the hall! ! ! ! of the cottage just before! ! ! ! stairs rise up to the bedrooms.

! ! ! ! Rain spatters the windows, ! ! ! ! a sudden gust of wind ! ! ! ! prepares for the story soon ! ! ! ! to be told, maybe a train ! ! ! ! running through the dark! ! ! ! in a misty green valley.

! ! ! ! Children’s memories not ! ! ! ! yet ready for bed where! ! ! ! stories can turn to dreams,! ! ! ! unfamiliar places, families,! ! ! ! not theirs, like those people! ! ! ! seen only at the holidays.

! ! ! ! The storm told the poet! ! ! ! to take down the words, ! ! ! ! put them in a book about! ! ! ! children, not yet ready for bed,! ! ! ! on a night of wind, rain and ! ! ! ! spattered windows.

! ! ! ! ! Rain Speak

! ! ! ! ! She speaks only to the rain in! ! ! ! ! these clockless days among ! ! ! ! ! barely seen clouded foothills! ! ! ! ! she speaks only to the rain, in! ! ! ! ! her mother’s voice, lost now,! ! ! ! ! yet, still here in her words,! ! ! ! ! passed mother to daughter! ! ! ! ! in this cottage, now become ! ! ! ! ! a year round place, leaving! ! ! ! ! behind the nearby city ! ! ! ! ! where there’s little time ! ! ! ! ! to speak to the rain ! ! ! ! ! slanting toward the porch! ! ! ! ! and the screen door where ! ! ! ! ! she stands with her quiet voice! ! ! ! ! barely heard among the flows ! ! ! ! ! of water from the roof,! ! ! ! ! the gutter, the downspouts,! ! ! ! ! into the summer garden.! ! ! ! !

! ! ! ! ! ! Moon

! ! ! ! ! the sun makes its way! ! ! ! ! hints at morning in spite of! ! ! ! ! stars and planets afloat in ! ! ! ! ! the dark blue velvet sky ! ! ! ! ! doorways collapse into shadows! ! ! ! ! feeble street lights glimmer on! ! ! ! ! the moon cobbled street

! ! ! ! Neighborhood Watch

! ! ! ! Of many creatures ! ! ! ! keeping an eye on ! ! ! ! our neighborhood,! ! ! ! stellar jays had! ! ! ! early morning duty.! ! ! ! They alerted us all! ! ! ! with enthusiastic,! ! ! ! no holds barred calls! ! ! ! from perches on ! ! ! ! dark wires that run ! ! ! ! down the alley behind! ! ! ! our South Hill home.! ! ! ! In charge of ! ! ! ! late afternoon, ! ! ! ! the crows, in their ! ! ! ! shiny black finery,! ! ! ! cawed and called! ! ! ! enthusiastically! ! ! ! at every intrusion.

! ! ! ! ! Hawk in the Neighborhood

! ! ! ! ! A hawk came to the neighborhood.! ! ! ! ! The mulch was there first, piled ! ! ! ! ! right up to the edge of the deck,! ! ! ! ! built out of indestructible material

! ! ! ! ! destined to be around for aliens! ! ! ! ! who find the earth, climate ravaged, a! ! ! ! ! unique mix of drought and drowning. ! ! ! ! ! But, back to the deck, where mulch

! ! ! ! ! came right up to the very edge, ! ! ! ! ! shadowed cave like holes appeared.! ! ! ! ! It was unclear who made them;! ! ! ! ! it was too soon for extraterrestrials.

! ! ! ! ! In the garden, for the first time in years, ! ! ! ! ! under the forsythia and rugosa roses,! ! ! ! ! there were small, brown, quick rabbits. ! ! ! ! ! A hawk came to the neighborhood.

! ! ! ! ! Fellow Reader

! ! ! ! the insect’s quick legs! ! ! ! ! ! cross the page! ! ! ! ! ! one letter at a time! ! ! ! ! ! each letter a self ! ! ! ! ! ! contained history! ! ! ! ! ! of alphabetic creation! ! ! ! ! ! the linguistic narrative ! ! ! ! ! ! of shapes we know! ! ! ! ! ! and others lost to use! ! ! ! ! ! hidden away in! ! ! ! ! ! unopened books ! ! ! ! ! ! ever hopeful of! ! ! ! ! ! resurrection in ! ! ! ! ! ! a meaningful ! ! ! ! ! ! word or two! ! ! ! ! !

! ! ! ! ! ! Evening Walk

! ! ! ! ! ! The brown dog and I ! ! ! ! ! ! Walk around the lake! ! ! ! ! ! Geese honk! ! ! ! ! ! Smooth water reflects! ! ! ! ! ! The quiet trees

! ! ! ! ! ! The evening sunlight slants! ! ! ! ! ! Through the leaves! ! ! ! ! ! Bright Venus appears! ! ! ! ! ! In the deep shadowed sky! ! ! ! ! ! It is time to go home

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! ! ! ! ! Birds

! ! ! ! ! birds flew close today! ! ! ! ! quick wings flash! ! ! ! ! of yellow and red,! ! ! ! ! a good day to soar, ! ! ! ! ! observe the world ! ! ! ! ! with gliding eyes.

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! ! ! ! ! Do Gods Take Vacations

! ! ! ! ! Summer vacation begins as! ! ! ! ! the high weed eater whine ! ! ! ! ! punctures an afternoon breeze,! ! ! ! ! a noisy antithesis to tinted blue! ! ! ! ! horizon to horizon; motorboats! ! ! ! ! scurry across the bay, an octave! ! ! ! ! below the weed eater; white sails! ! ! ! ! offer salient wind filled prayers,! ! ! ! ! both periodically overwhelmed by! ! ! ! ! the throbbing base of airplanes! ! ! ! ! in their slow ascent from the airport.! ! ! ! ! Perhaps the gods too vacation! ! ! ! ! while celestial minions ! ! ! ! ! clean up Mount Olympus.

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! ! ! ! ! ! Dark Outside

! ! ! ! ! ! afternoon light welcomes ! ! ! ! ! ! approaching dusk ! ! ! ! ! ! ready to leave ! ! ! ! ! ! this particular day ! ! ! ! ! ! coming hours offer! ! ! ! ! ! a different look at ! ! ! ! ! ! light and shadow! ! ! ! ! ! a different sense ! ! ! ! ! ! of time and place! ! ! ! ! ! a different view ! ! ! ! ! ! of who we might be! ! ! ! ! ! whispered words ! ! ! ! ! ! in the air said! ! ! ! ! ! don’t get too! ! ! ! ! ! close to the ! ! ! ! ! ! the darkness! ! ! ! ! ! when it comes

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! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Farm House

! ! ! ! ! vines over the edge of the gutter! ! ! ! ! climb window frames! ! ! ! ! set in weathered siding! ! ! ! ! years ago relentless sunshine! ! ! ! ! took the farmhouse paint! ! ! ! ! a slow surrender in a field that! ! ! ! ! once grew daffodils and tulips! ! ! ! ! abandoned now to a cacophony ! ! ! ! ! of grasses brush scrubby trees! ! ! ! ! no echoes in the empty rooms! ! ! ! ! !

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! ! ! ! Aunt Fran’s House

! ! From the front walk at fifteen Bedford Avenue,! ! I could see Cape Cod houses, just like ours,! ! on each side of the simple, black macadam road,! ! spaced equally among segmented gray side walks,! ! marked here and there by hop scotch squares,! ! quietly waiting for school to end. Milk and cookies ! ! at the kitchen table with friends who knew ! ! my Aunt Fran almost always had fresh baked ! ! ! ! ! ! chocolate chip cookies ready after school.

! ! Before dinner, there were balls to be tossed, ! ! tag to be played, hiding places to be found ! ! that no blind folded kid leaning against a tree ! ! would ever find. There were pies for every ! ! season, spring strawberry rhubarb, summer ! ! peaches, fall apples Gravensteins, worth it ! ! for the name alone, accompanied by extra ! ! sharp, pure white Vermont cheddar cheese, ! ! a passion learned from Uncle Eddie.

! ! He diligently dug out a basement from ! ! the three foot crawl space with its ! ! cement floor brought into submission, ! ! one piece at a time, by sledge hammer, ! ! shovel and wheel barrow, Soon, ! ! there were floor to ceiling shelves by ! ! the wall, each capturing summer! ! in pints and quarts of canned fruits, ! ! preserves, pickles and green beans.

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! ! ! ! Wooden Bowl

! ! ! ! I have a wooden bowl, carved by some New Englander ! ! ! ! a long time ago, you can see the makers chisel marks, ! ! ! ! a sense of purpose in the form that accompanied it ! ! ! ! to an auction in rural Vermont where Aunt Fran bid on it.! ! ! ! Aunt Fran and Uncle Eddie often took me along on ! ! ! ! weekend excursions in the old four door black Buick ! ! ! ! that cruised along two lane New England roads leading to ! ! ! ! big white clap board houses, with wraparound porches, ! ! ! ! barns filled to overflowing with one or more estates! ! ! ! where they gave you time to look things over before! ! ! ! the auctioneer kicked off the sale with a “What am I bid! ! ! ! for.” Aunt Fran had a great eye for form and bargains, ! ! ! ! teaching me how to tell the old cut glass pieces and look ! ! ! ! for English stone ware and Limoges china marks! ! ! ! on the back of plates.The wooden bowl sat in a ! ! ! ! prominent place on the fireplace mantel.! ! ! ! When Fran died it came to me. It has held fresh! ! ! ! fruit in the kitchen, dried rose petals from spent! ! ! ! bouquets. I like to see it each morning as ! ! ! ! part of getting the day started on a good note.

! ! ! ! ! Movies

! ! ! ! ! Saturdays, I went to the movies,! ! ! ! ! double features, cartoons, candy ! ! ! ! ! bars, rectangular boxes of popcorn, ! ! ! ! ! perfect for flattened tosses across! ! ! ! ! the camera's flickering light! ! ! ! ! where cowboys, soldiers and! ! ! ! ! super heroes taught lessons ! ! ! ! ! about life, death, liberty, and, ! ! ! ! ! once in awhile, kissing just before! ! ! ! ! the hero disappeared into the sunset ! ! ! ! ! after the evil forces of the wild west, ! ! ! ! ! World War II or outer space were duly ! ! ! ! ! extinguished to raucous cheers.

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