The Deck Of Disarray

Tuesday morning and I sit in the soft silence by the sliding glass door.

I just sit and watch the cold rain as it pelts my deck of disarray

In the grayness of the day- amidst the falling leaves I see things-

I see her rocking chair. And I still in the quiet recesses of my heart still see her sitting there.

I see the ghost of things in my past-like the baby raccoons that would come every night.

I see the images of all our cats, which like her have come and gone.

The trees bow also in the silence of this cold and gray day.

The wicker lamps lean upon their sides- dark now like the day.

Yet in my memories they glowed brilliant and bright.

I see my own reflection in the glass- I see beyond this and into my past.

I see beyond the deck of disarray covered now in the cold wetness of Tuesday’s rain.

I remember those hot summer days when of this deck that by my hand I made.

I can still hear her voice, and taste the cold glass of sweet tea that for me she made.

I see the cookouts from days gone by on this deck by our pool.

I see our children of summer, dreading September and return to school.

Oh…I see SO many things on this now my poor deck of disarray.

Yet I know in my heart that of this deck that for myself I must reclaim.

J. Allen Wilson © 10/27/2009

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