The Sun was a Butter Yellow

Melinda, a young momma stands on her cement porch, with clothes basket in hand.  The air is warm and the sun a butter yellow. Jack and Lisa, her little ones are running around the backyard. Heading to their swing set and jungle gym. Max, their crazy Jack Russell is running right behind them. He’s snapping at the air trying to catch flies. He’s yapping so loudly that he’s disturbing the flies, making them buzz around his head. Melinda stares at the dog and wonders if he’ll die of a heart attack, he’s riggling around so much.

She walks down the steps and heads to the clothesline. She breathes in the smell of fresh laundry and Springtime. As she begins pinning the bed sheets to the line, she watches her children play with Max, the wonder pup. They are chasing him around with cheap pinwheels that she bought them at the dollar store. The wheels are spinning as they run. The colors of them blur with their motions. The trip to the dollar store was a necessity, to pick up laundry soap and fabric softener. Of course she had to placate her 7 and 9 year old with cheap plastic toys. Now they’re terrorizing the dog with them.

Melinda yells, “Hey you two, knock off banging on the dog with the pin wheels!”

Jack and Lisa look at her with faces of complete innocence. She just shakes her head and smiles. The kids continue to play with Max. Melinda hangs up her husband’s t-shirts and some of his jeans. Ah Troy, what a good man. She hold his shirt to her nose and breathes in the aroma of Gain detergent and Snuggle fabric softener. She wishes she could still smell him on the fabric though. She sighs and pins the shirt to the line. Just then the kids start running through the clothes line. With the dog!

Once again Melinda yells, “Get out of the clothesline. The clothes are clean and I want them to stay that way.”

The kids keep running through the newly hung laundry. Laughing, with Max trailing behind them.

They scream, “Mom, come run with us!”

Melinda laughs and starts to chase them. They weave their way around the sweet smelling laundry. Hair flying wildly in the warm breeze. Max is crazily chasing after them. Still snapping at the air to catch flies.

The kids and Melinda plop down on the ground under the clothes line. They are still laughing and carrying on. The rest of the household chores forgotten for a few minutes. They lay next to each other and look up at the clouds.

Melinda points to one and says, “I see an elephant.”

Jack says, “No Momma, it’s a rhino.”

Lisa replies, “You’re both wrong. It’s a hippo!”

Max wanders over to Melinda. Sniffs her hair and face. He settles next to her, and lays his chin on his paws. He’s still panting from his meanderings.

Troy, Melinda’s husband comes home from work to find his family laying under the clothesline. In the sun, giggling and talking. He sets down his briefcase and takes off his suit jacket. Then wanders out to where his family is and lays down next to his wife. She grabs his hand and leans her head on his shoulder.

Melinda says to Troy as she points to the cloud above them, “What do you think that cloud looks like? We’ve decided it’s an elephant, rhino and a hippo.”

Troy kisses Melinda’s forehead and replies, “Why can’t it be all three?”

Jack sits up and says, “Dad how can it be all three? It can’t be an elerihinhippo!”

Troy looks at Jack and says, “Son, that’s exactly what it is!”

Lisa sighs and says, “Daddy, you are way too silly.”

Melinda grabs Troy’s hand and squeezes it. She gazes at the sky, breathes in the fresh air and laundry. She knows that life can’t possibly get any better than this.


She stands on the observation deck and sees the storm rolling in. From the corner of her eye, she can see him. He’s watching her. She smiles. As the wind begins to blow, he approaches her, yet feels no fear. She turns and looks directly at him as he walks toward her. Within seconds he is standing next to her. He drapes his arms on the railing of the observation deck right next to hers. Their elbows are barely touching. Her smile becomes more broad. He smiles too. They turn and look directly at each other. It’s as if he knows her, but they’ve never gazed at one another before. The rain has begun and there’s thunder too. She touches his arm and he grabs her hand in his. He pulls her to him, stares into her green eyes and kisses her passionately. She is the first to pull away, though she’s not sure why. They step back  from each other momentarily. All of a sudden he is behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist and begins furiously kissing her neck. She moans and arches body into his as the lightning explodes around and within them.

She turns around to face him. He’s handsome, but not overly so. He has this look on his face. It is ecstasy. They’ve not said a word. Not one word, but they haven’t needed to. Their bodies are speaking for them. He kisses her passionately on the mouth. Tongues intertwine. Hands grope for purchase. For skin. Even though they are fully clothed they want to touch skin. The warmth of it. The heat. He unzips his fly and she grabs his cock. He is so hard for her. She is so wet. He pulls her skirt up and she’s naked underneath. He thrusts himself into her. Lightning crashes with the rhythm of their fucking. She gasps at the size of him. At his prowess. She wonders, why me? He looks at her and sees nothing but beauty. More lightning, more rain, and more thunder. Her breath quickens with her approaching orgasm. He can sense it and fucks her more shallowly. To make her feel his cock on her clit. She screams and she cums and the thunder roars in time with it. He smiles a devilish grin. She reaches down and feels his balls. They are a drawn and tight. She asks, “do you want to cum inside?” He says, “oh yes please.” She says, “then please do.”

He’s not ready yet. He has her braced against the railing of the Eiffel Tower. There is thunder and lightning everywhere. Her hair is flowing in the wind. He leans in and kisses her neck as he’s fucking her. She moans in expectation of his orgasm. He grunts and says, “I’m going to fill you up. Fill you with my heat and my lust.” And then he does. She feels the pulse of him inside of her. Feels him fill her up. They look at each other, they smile and their breathing slows. She says, “this was not quite the welcome to Paris that I expected.” There is one more flash of lightning and the storm subsides. She lowers her dress, and he zips up his trousers. She says, “I think after that, we need lunch and a glass of wine.” He smiles devilishly and says, “you took the words right out of my mouth.” They leave the observation deck in search of a small cafe.


I Can Fly, I Can Fly, I Can Fly

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.”
― J.M. BarriePeter Pan

There I stood at the edge of the cliff. I readied myself for the next step. I timidly placed my left foot over the edge, then drew it back. I wasn’t sure if I could do this. I wasn’t sure if I could fly. I prayed for it, but I was still afraid. I can see the beauty of the sky in front of me. The clouds look like cotton candy. I want so badly to fly through them, open my mouth and give them a taste. Are they sweet? Are they bitter? Are they just vapor and as tasteless as water? The colors of the sunrise are grand, the coral pink, the beryl blue, and titan orange. I want to fly closer to the sun. Feel the warmth on my skin. I want to fly and feel free.

I look down and gaze at the sea below. I can hear the roar of the waves as they crash over and over on the rocks. The sound is exhilarating and makes the tiny hairs on the back of my neck erect. My body vibrates with excitement. A smile crosses my lips and I know that I’m ready. I put my left foot forward and feel nothing but air beneath me. Then I place the right foot next to the left one. I am standing on air, and feel nothing but elation. I raise my arms up and feel myself move further away from the side of the cliff. My wings, they protrude from my back. They are like those of an angel. Alabaster, immense, and dazzlingly beautiful. Yet they are lightweight.

My clothing changes to a gauzy purple gown. Light and as beautiful as my wings.  My wings spread and I ascend. I can’t believe how free I feel. How this flying feels like second nature. All it took was a little pixie dust and faith. The belief that I could fly. I move close to the pink cloud, look behind me and see that the cliff is miles away. I feel no fear.  My wings as they flutter, move me closer to that glorious cloud. I finally hover within it, grab a piece and place the fluffy goodness in my mouth. The burst of sugary sweetness is so overpowering it knocks me backward. All the better to see the blue of the sky and feel the warmth of  the rising sun. I can still taste the sugar of the cloud in my mouth. I’m smiling as I lay on my back and fly like I’m doing the backstroke.

This is my ocean. I can see all the way to the bottom and I feel no fear. I turn over on my stomach, flap my wings and fly closer to the orange of the sun. As I fly, I think of the quote from Peter Pan, “Second star to the right and straight on till morning.”  Will I find Neverland? Will Tink share her pixie dust? Hmmm, once I get to my destination, we’ll see.

A Crisp November Morning

Crisp morning, November 15.

red-yellow sunrise, opening day of rifle season.

His gun, rests against the tree.

The Hunter stands with a Thermos of coffee.

Steam rises from it as he unscrews the lid.

He places the cup to his lips and drains it.

Places it back on the Thermos and sets it on the ground.

He is clad in blaze orange, quilted coveralls to hold in warmth on this brisk morning.

There is birdsong, and he sees an eagle take flight above the low lying mist.

He hears the call of wild turkeys in the distance.

The mist shrouds the dormant corn field and the lower branches of a tree.

There is movement.

And in the distance, the Hunter sees him.

The Buck.

His majestic head is lowered to the ground, eating leftover  husk.

The Hunter reaches for his rifle, still against the tree.

The Buck hears the sound of the hunter’s sleeves.

He raises his head, and the Hunter looks at him in wide wonder.

All eight points of his rack reach for the Heavens.

He resets the safety and lowers his weapon.

The deer nibbles on the husk still in his mouth, and watches the Hunter.

The Hunter watches the Hunted.

There comes a snap of twig, birds take flight in the rising sun and the Buck leaps into the mist.

The Hunter grabs his Thermos of coffee, refills his cup and waits.

Bittersweet Day in Pines

Cherry pie from Lee and Carol for mulching their gardens. Game nights at the Perez’s. Campfires on our patio unitl 3 AM. Wine, beer, and booze flowed along with our running mouths that never tired. We talked politics, religion, food, children, love, family and the meaning of life. We’ve even done some dancing on that patio.

The kids drove around on golf carts until curfew. Then there’d be tons of them playing cards and video games all over the house. Meg’s first love lived there. They would see each other every weekend. They were even caught making out on the beach. Imagine my surprise when the ranger came to tell me all about it!

Meggie and Adam Boy lived and worked a few summers there.  They were lifeguards, recreation staff, and the keepers of little children. They even created a competitive swim program.

I loved the beach, the pool and the hot sun. I read tons of books, wrote and slept. I’ll miss that part of it I’m sure.  I find peace on a beach, with the sand in my toes and sunscreen on my skin.

Roger and his crew rewired the the Florida room. I wouldn’t let them have a cocktail till the work was done. After the work was finished they proceeded to get hammered. Roger passed out in living room and Adam and I ate his pizza.

Roger Darling went airborne when he tripped on a loose patio block. I nearly lost my ever loving mind I was laughing so hard. He didn’t find it that hilarious as he was laying in the flower garden.

I showed my boobs to one of our best male friends. I thought Rog was going to faint he was laughing so hard. I tell ya, he’s never surprised by the crazy shit I do.

I threw my back out and had to be taken by ambulance to the hospital. My wonderful neighbor Max came over and held my hand. Everyone around me was freaking out and yelling. But Max, he knew exactly what to do to calm me.

We’ve changed houses, built decks, landscaped and beautified our little piece of the Pines. Our little piece of heaven. It’s D, G and M’s place now. I hope they make as many wonderful memories there as we did.

Fresh Air and a Winding Road

Fresh Air and a Winding Road

Many times I’ve been alone And many times I’ve cried Anyway you’ll never know The many ways I’ve tried She perches her designer sunglasses on her pert nose, wraps a colorful scarf around her neck and drops the BMW in … Continue reading

A Hastening Heart Finds Peace in Dew

Thank you Help Me Rhonda for the photo 

The sun emerges from behind the trees at the beginning of her morning run. She always runs in Central Park. Headphones are blaring a little Foo Fighters to get her heart going and to help her keep pace. It’s a warm morning and a little too humid for Spring. She’s clad in a tank shirt, running shorts, and bright purple running shoes. She loves purple, it’s one of her favorites. Running is too. It keeps her lithe, lean, and healthy. Makes her smile at the thought of pushing her body to it’s limits. Makes her feel alive. Free.

As her feet keep pace with her breathing, she takes in the scenery. The scents and the sounds too. She loves running this route. Looking at the folks sitting on park benches. They’re feeding bread crumbs to the birds and the squirrels. She slides over to the far most side of the path so as not to disturb the animals and their feeding time. After she passes them she slide back to the middle of the path and picks up her running pace.

Her heart rate increases and so does her breathing. She loves this part of the run. She’s run two miles out of her normal three mile trek. With the increase in respiration she can smell the freshly blooming flowers on the path. She loves this time of the year. She knows the lilacs will be in bloom soon. She thinks, what is better than the aroma of those purple beauties? She sees new leaves on all of the trees. Everything is so green. Even she feels young and new today.

Then she sees it. It stops her dead in her tracks. Her heartbeat is heavy in her ears, her breathing still quick and her body does not want to rest yet. But she has to stop. For she sees in the path, a lone stalk of new wheat. It is green, glistening and bent over with the weight of morning dew. The sun hits it perfectly. She is mesmerized because it reminds her of home. Of Michigan and of younger days and running in wheat fields. It reminds her of her first kiss. Laying in the wheat field behind the farmhouse she lived in as a kid.

She walks up to it and then drops to her knees to take a closer look. She decides, what the hell and lays down next to it. Just like when she was a kid. From this angle she feels 15 again. She remembers kissing that boy in the wheat field. She smiles and looks at the stalk. She sees the sun shining through the dew. Reaches out and touches it lightly with one fingertip. She touches the dew drenched tip to her lips and remembers him.

Sunrise, Coffee, and Sanctuary

With each sunrise we start anew

Vanessa sits on her porch in the stillness of the morning. She sees the sun coming up through the maple tree in the back yard. Her coffee is next to her. Filled to the brim with dark roast, real creamer, and a drizzle of caramel sauce. She’s reading. One of her go to books of the summer. It’s set in the South of course. She thinks she was a debutante in a former life. She’s always been drawn to those types of books. Romance, in the South. Life, in the South. Even with the bigotry, she still feels drawn there.

She sets her book down on the table next to her. And watches the sun ascend and become brighter. Its color changing from dark orange to a warm yellow, like the color of an egg yolk. It’s like she hears it. It sizzles, cracks and pops. Like a campfire that is only embers, and the wood splits with the intense heat of it.

Vanessa looks to the right and sees the swimming hole n the side yard. It’s one of the reasons that she and Liam picked this place to live. To love. The sun’s rays cause a reflection on the water in the morning light. She thinks of him, and smiles. She left him sleeping, so she could read, and watch the sunrise. It’s been a busy few days for them. They’re finally together, in the same place. No more running back and forth from place to place.

They have their sanctuary, in the middle of nowhere. It’s just them. Finally. No need for commitment. Or wedding rings. There’s just bliss. They get to, just be. The sun is higher in the sky. The flies and bees begin to buzz around her. Vanessa doesn’t care though. She picks up her coffee mug and takes a huge drink. It’s cold, but the caramel still tastes fantastic!

She rises from her chair and descends the three concrete steps of the wraparound porch. She makes a right and heads to the swimming hole. She starts taking off her clothes as she walks to the waters edge. Her tank shirt is the first to go. She just leaves it in the grass. Next go her sleep pants. Again, in the grass. When she gets to the waters edge, she takes off her boys shorts and flings them off her fingers. She jumps head first in the water.

As Vanessa resurfaces, shakes her head and opens her eyes. She sees Liam standing on the shore. He’s the love of her life. He’s naked of course. He’s always naked. And he’s smiling. Actually he’s laughing. He always laughs when he’s with his silly girl. He jumps in the water and swims up to her. They wrap their arms around each other, kiss passionately and smile. She blushes. For some reason he still makes her blush.

She says to him, My God you are perfect. This is perfect. He says, Honey I’m far from perfect. I’ll settle for decent. She says, Okay we are not perfect, we are decent. But this life, this life will be perfect. He says to her, I think we finally got it right.

They hold each other in the water. Their bodies entwined and shivering in the morning light. They look around at their sanctuary and then descend below the surface to share a kiss.

Then She Prays

“Seldom is a wheat field as terribly sown.”

She stands staring at the sky, in a field filled with wheat ready for harvest. She places her hands in it. She grips the stalks in her fingers. Feels the course beauty of it. Smells the wholesomeness of it in the air.  The wind makes it sway to and fro as she releases it. Her head is spinning and she wonders how she got here. All she remembers is running. Away from the pain of the news she’d just heard. Of the phone call and what they said.

She looks up again and sees the blue of the sky. The clouds like cotton. The sun’s golden rays passing through them. It’s like seeing God when she stares at those streams of light. She has to mourn her grief. Her loss. She wonders how she’ll go on without him. Without them. Where does she begin? How does she live?

She raises her fists into the air and wails. It’s not the cry of a small child, but the scream and rant of a wounded animal. She keeps screaming until she is spent. Her hands raised, she keeps cursing at God. She keeps asking why. Finally, her knees buckle at her utter exhaustion. She falls to the ground. She lays in that fragrant and warm wheat field. Finally after many minutes, she gets to her knees, clasps her hands together, and closes her eyes. She feels the breeze blow her hair as if God himself was touching her. Her trembling subsides and she begins to pray.

West Virginia in the Summertime

She sits on the porch, sipping lemonade, wishing there was vodka in it. And more ice. She’s taking a break from painting the porch railing. The temperature is what a good writer would call sultry. In reality it’s so fucking hot out! The thermometer is hovering around 95 degrees, the humidity at a steady 87%. But the ground, the ground has been sucked dry due to lack of rain. The grass is no longer grass, but straw. Dry and dead. The only thing that’s thriving are her hanging baskets of flowers. They are hanging from the porch overhang. They’re beautiful, bright, colorful. Every color of the Spectrum, is in those baskets.

She sets down the empty glass, and is already thirsty for more precious, sweet liquid. She picks up her brush, dips it in the paint can. The color is white. Like eggshell. Boring. But what color would you paint a railing? The color of flowers offsets the blah color of the paint. She starts the upward and downward motion of painting. It’s mundane, boring, and yet she is sweating profusely. The sun is making her the color of the pink petals. The color of  the flowers in her gardens scattered around their home.

She smiles, and thinks of him. His dark hair, his dark eyes that she could drown in. The soul patch on his chin. He’s in bed sleeping off the hours that he just worked. Resting so they can spend their evening together. She thinks to herself, why am I not in there with him? Why am I out in this damn heat in the middle of the day? She puts the lid on the paint can and places the brush in a plastic bag so she can use it later that day. Or maybe tomorrow.  She doesn’t even wash the dried paint from her hands.

She enters the house and feels instant relief from the central air conditioner. She’s greeted by her menagerie of dogs and cats. Her furry children. She walks to the bedroom where he sleeps. Stands before their bed, and removes her clothes. She pulls the covers back and lays down next to him. She presses her form to his. He wakes, turns his head, looks into her azure eyes and smiles. A sly smile. A smile that melts her heart and her body. Cools her but warms her instantly. He kisses her nose. Her sweet, little button nose. As he pulls back to look at her beautiful face, he sees a streak of white paint across the bridge of her nose. He smiles, tells her that he loves her, and kisses her nose again.