WE OPEN AT SUNSET

1 we open at sunset

“we open at sunset.”

 

 

The sun lowers its head in the darkening sky.

A young man pedals his bicycle.

He parks beneath the striped awning,

rushing to his wilting plants.

He brings them into the store.

I cross the street and peek into the window.

The man tends to the leaves with a mister.

He arranges them on a table beneath the window.

The plants straighten their stems.

Their leaves spread wide to hold each other’s hands.

The man steps back with a grin on his face.

Our eyes meet through the glass.

He holds my gaze before turning away.

He’s seen me.

The handsome man moves closer to the door.

His eyes seek mine.

I hold my breath.

A slow smile crosses his face,

dimpling his cheeks beneath sculpted cheekbones.

He waves for me to enter.

I open the glass door as the bell chimes.

The fragrant scent of flowers rises to my nose.

I stand beside the tall man.

Together, we watch the plants as they stretch their stems

toward the rays streaming through the window.

I whisper, “Why do you wait a whole day to water them?”

He faces me. 

“This is the way,” he says.

I scrunch my nose. “What way?”

He smiles.

His dimples reappear. 

“The way of the prior owner

who told me to water them at sunset.”

“What would happen if you forgot?” I ask.

He stares through the window.

“These are special plants that must be watered,”

he replies,

“the same time every day or else they die.”

“Amazing,” I murmur.

The plants glisten in the orange glow

from the sun before it retreats to bed.

The plants drop their hands.

“What happens now?” I ask.

He smiles. 

“They go to sleep.”

“Sweet.”

His dark blue gaze falls on me. 

“Would you like to accompany me to dinner this evening?”

My heart pounds. 

“Will you tell me about the plants?” I ask.

His dimples deepen. 

“Of course. And we can even share our names.”

I giggle. 

“That’s right. I don’t know yours.”

“But I know yours, Amy.”

“How?”

He takes my hand,

placing it in the crook of his arm. 

“All will be explained.”

 

WE OPEN AT SUNSET

1 we open at sunset

“we open at sunset.”

 

Why open at sunset?

Why wait until your flowers are dried out 

from being in the sun all day?

Is the store an after work hobby?

In my mind’s eye, I can see the owner.

The sun is low in the deepening blue sky.

The young man pedals quickly on his bicycle

and parks below the red and white striped awning.

The dark-haired man rushes to his plants 

who lie before him wilting.

He grabs them and brings them inside.

I cross the street and peek into the window.

The man tends to the leaves with a fine mister,

then soaks their dirt with a yellow watering can.

He lines them up on the table beneath the window,

rearranging them by size from smallest to tallest.

Before my shocked eyes, the plants stand straighter.

The leaves spread out to hold each other’s hands.

The man steps back with a happy expression on his face.

Our eyes meet through the glass.

He holds my gaze before turning away.

He’s seen me.

His eyes seek mine.

I hold my breath.

A slow smile wings across his face,

dimpling his plump cheeks.

His hand waves for me to enter.

I pull open the glass door as the bell chimes.

The fragrant scent of flowers wafts to my nose

from the shelves of plants around the small room.

I stand beside the tall and handsome man.

Together we watch the plants as they stretch their stems

to the sun streaming through the window.

I whisper, “Why did you wait a whole day to water them?”

He faces me. “That is the way.”

I scrunch my nose as I glance up. “What way?”

He smiles, and his dimples reappear. “The way of the prior owner who told

me to water them only at sunset, and that I should never forget.”

I shrugged. “What would happen if you forgot?”

His stare takes on a faraway look. “These are special plants that must be

watered the same time every day or else they will die.”

“Amazing,” I murmur.

The setting sun lights the plants with an orange glow.

The sun retreats to its bed for the night.

The plants follow suit and drop hands, their leaves standing up straight.

“What happens now?” I ask.

He smiles. “They go to sleep.”

“Sweet.”

His dark blue gaze falls on me. “Would you like to accompany me 

to dinner this evening?”

My head pops up. “Will you explain more about the plants?”

His dimples deepen. “Of course. And we can share our names.”

I giggled. “That’s right. I don’t know yours.”

“But I know yours, Amy.”

“How–?”

He takes my arm and places it in the crook of his. “All will be explained.”

To be continued

TROPICAL PARADISE

We fly on a green carpet
through the dense bush.
Mosquitoes for companions
in the moisture-laden air.
Exotic plants fan our faces
as we trek down winding paths.
Snapping sounds taunt us
as we canoe down the river.
The tempo quickens.
The beat picks...

 (Source: quiet-spheres)

 

 

We fly on a green carpet

through the dense bush.

Mosquitoes for companions

in the moisture-laden air.

Exotic plants fan our faces

as we trek down winding paths.

Snapping sounds taunt us

as we canoe down the river.

The tempo quickens.

The beat picks up.

The air becomes heavier.

The sounds louder.

We become one with nature.

Lost in a tropical paradise.

 

 

ALIVE

 

The house has come alive.

A thick darkness descending.

Snakes slithering in their cages.

Man-eating plants standing at attention.

Tree limbs grabbing my arms.

Roots wrapping around my legs.

The greenery moving closer.

The door drifting farther away.

Will we make it in time?

Before we’re trapped.

What’s next?

Quicksand?

THE DEAD GAME

BRIGHT EYES

🌿👻🌿

BRIGHT EYES

Bright eyes look out at me

from a jungle of trees.

Leaves rustle in the soft wind

or from some movement within.

I must get out of here.

I can not take this fear.

I am lost in the green see.

This isn’t where I want to be.

I left the party to open a closed door,

and here I am about to hit the floor.

I’m surrounded from each side.

There’s no place for me to hide.

A creepy plant is bowing to me.

It wants to take a bite out of me.

How did this party turn to hell?

I can now hear the dinner bell.

I’m sure it is ringing for me.

Dinner I will now come to be.

HIDING BY BEING GREEN

 

I’m hiding by being green.

On this leaf I won’t be seen.

My orange eyes are watching you.

But yours can’t see me in the dew.

WHAT IF

  1. WHAT IF

    What if the sun exploded one day?

    The day began as all others.

    And then the sun kept getting larger.

    Hotter.

    Steamier.

    Until it exploded.

    Hot fire balls fell to earth.

    The rest were absorbed into space.

    Once the fires were extinguished,

    darkness fell across the earth.

    The moon wasn’t ready to come out yet.

    Who would save the earth?

    Warm the earth.

    Provide the needed sunshine for plants

    and all living things.

    The moon stepped forward.

    It puffed up to appear larger.

    It blew out steam to warm the earth.

    “You’re hired,” mankind shouted.

    The moon replaced the sun.

    Twenty four hours a day.

    No time off.

    No rest.

    But a lot of grumbling.

    So we ask: What if the sun exploded?

    We would be in trouble.

    Stuck with the moon for sunshine.

    Sun, we bow down to you.