Penumbra
by Carolyn Martin
Per your request I put the darks in the dryer
and alarmed the doors I’m heading out annoyed
about the sweet gum we cut down last week
Gone its shielding shade allowing wicked sun
to scorch marigolds petunias zinnias and phlox
Even summer’s stingy clouds won’t offer sheltering
I’m off to find an umbrella tent maybe a tarp to tack
to the fence anything to circumvent the last
last resort uproot blooms risk their death replant
If the solution lies in dirty work nothing will redeem
our failure to foresee our ineptitude except perhaps
the flicker body-slamming a suet cake or the feral cat
poised and pregnant begging breakfast at the sliding door
or the purple smell of irises celebrating their first
bloom Considerate diversions searching
to find their roots in a poem’s scattered shade
Carolyn Martin (she/her) blissfully retired in Clackamas, Oregon, is a lover of gardening and snorkeling, feral cats and backyard birds, writing and photography. Since the only poem she wrote in high school was red penciled “extremely maudlin,” she is amazed she has continued to write.