The Morcom Amphitheater of Roses

The flower-mad Flaneur revisits a landscape of the past 

blooming in the nowsville

 It's a location with multiple names

 The nomenclature I prefer

 As day-tripper and as night-tripper both,

I enjoyed these premises fairly often years ago

Looking down at the waterworks,

Everything seems to be at the mercy 

Of the California drought

 A group of young boys 

Roamed about in small bands

 They were like sprites

Appearing in motion and gone again from sight

 The kingdom of an afternoon

 A group of six or seven boys

Came running past me in pure exuberance,

The littlest one kept looking back to see my smile,

He was cartoon cute and beyond

 

 Close up

 Strange green of the pond

 Beyond the oaks

 digital conceptualization

creates a meta-reality

 Wooden Figure,

found earth art assemblage

 I was struck with vicarious grandfatherly affection

By this young mother and daughter on the bus home

I took a candid just as a memento, too shy

 To ask her for a shot of her lovely hair in the sunlight

When the little girl nodded

 I summoned the courage,

Gratitude to this very cool lady,

That's their bike outside the front windshield

11 June 2015

Too little rain again this year,
The roses are crisp-ed and seer,

It's too soon, it's too soon
The roses are crisp-ed in June