Unplugged for two full days,
nothing but sweet summer scent,
cut grass, heavy breeze hovering
over cucumbers, yellow blossoms
on zucchini vines. Eyes closed,
children’s voices play in the pool,
sounds of my son’s pencil scribbling
cartoon sheep on his drawing pad,
click-click of jeans and zippered
sweatshirts doing somersaults
in the dryer downstairs.
After the interlude, chaos rains
on my e-media-parade-flat-screen
landscape where we try to fix things
by pointing out what’s broken.
If silent, you condone evil.
If vocal, you’re a hater or a fool.
Better a poem than protest. Better
a poem than a mute sigh. I think.
If I try hard enough, I can almost hear
zucchini spreading in the garden,
footfall on gravel, muffled greetings
in the distance. I click the X
in the upper right, my screen goes blank
and my spirit goes, “Ahhh.”
Early evening late summer fire
next to the garden where cucumbers
still grow and so do thoughts
of all my dear broken hearted friends
and their “something must be done” souls,
and the ache at the back of their jaw bones
for this sorry old world, I want to tell them:
I believe in your goodness –
You make my space safe –
I never doubted you for a minute –
Take a zucchini. Please.
About the writer:
Kelly Belmonte has been published in Atlas Poetica, Literary Nest, Relief Journal, and Ruminate, and her chapbooks, Three Ways of Searching and Spare Buttons, are available through Finishing Line Press. Her poetry has also been anthologized by Canterbury Press in The Word in The Wilderness (2014) and Love, Remember (2017).
Image: Photograph by Marie Dashkova.