Backyard

Didn't mean to squirt the praying mantis with the power nozzle.
Of course I divert the water elsewhere
And watch with admiration
As she determinedly crawls back atop the echinacea.

I turn off the faucet and rest on the porch step.
That aspen, straight ahead in the back, has grown
Slender, and straight.

One cricket starts up. I always hear the first one cricket.
Another in echo, then in unison
Hailing the twilight.

A forehead, gently pushed against my knee
I reach down to scratch her neck.
She rolls on to her back, exposing her massive belly.
I run my fingers through that long, soft, teddy bear fur
She purrs a quiet humming, complete in the moment.

My neighbor has family over
A pleasant, happy gathering.
I think about a friend who might as well be next door
Or on the other side of the world.

The stillness sets in, each sound distinct.
I take a sip of peach and grapefruit soda—tart and sweet—
And put the can to my cheek for the fizz,
A million bubbles breaking at the surface
Extending the moment.