My Tuscany (photo by Mary)
He arises at the crack of dawn to raise his arms
to recite scriptures of the morning wind
and dawn’s cracking rise of fireball sun;
The tools and his hands speak the only verses
he knows to seduce stone and cement with
sweat and blisters and swigs of water as he
builds his Tuscany in Colorado; for the arbor
that will bear the fruit and harvest
for the grapes of his body’s wine
for the garden where he will kneel before
tomatoes and peppers to offer a humble
sharing with garlic and basil and oil
for a space for tables for family and friends
to break bread and drink his wine in a joyous
adoration of their friendship and love for one another
for a chair and a table under the arbor where he
will awaken soon to a morning time with his pen in hand
and new songs from his voice and heart
because this is his life and this is where
he will exhale his last breath into the
scriptures of the morning winds and sunlight.
plumlover 