~A Summer’s Dream~
The Cicada buzz mounts to a vibratory fury and descends swift, as I watch the mist settle upon the summer fields.
Bull thistle has gone to seed among the barn; white flurries dance, softly, upon the electric aether, before the storm.
I wander a lush and timeless countryside, where feathery mimosa trees blossom, in their sweet sugared fragrance, cooked by a fiery sun.
A peregrine falcon soars from a space on high, overseer of a rolling hillside.
Amish women tell stories as they hang their wet washing in the wind, to press and dry into shape; cotton and linen, sun faded and warmly fragrant, by evening.
In the old house, a slow thunder rumbles the wood clapboards and settles with the dust;
as iced lemon and watermelon waters, are stirred slowly with long spoons deep, into perspiring glass jars, for the evening porch gossip and gathering of loved ones telling stories of the day.
Swift blackbirds among the cornfields take flight, trailing a dusty path towards the lavender heaven above.
Those that have secrets will find each other in the haven of “Old Caedmon’s” tobacco barn, deep into the tree line, where dusk moves like velvet shadows over the living things…
Bare footed and cotton dress, finds me on the dust roads that wind down into Ash Rose Hollow, where I gather wild plants and berries; horses languish in the field, with the last heated moments of the day.
As the moon finds a path through the windows, I smile, upon cool linen and satin, remembering the day’s blessings, unfold into memories of sweetness.
I secretly listen for the distant whistle of our town train, coming, always before the town clock strikes midnight.
It is a lullaby song for a summer’s dream.
~By Tommie Flannery Baskis~ 2019