Joyce's Sanctuary

Happy birthday Joyce Anne! RIP!

There’s a sanctuary
outside her door,
a corridor of grass
and a scattered grove 
of trees, a massive
maple to the right
and a river birch 
with its peeling white bark
straight ahead.

Ferns and hostas,
geraniums and yews
surround her view.

It’s a natural menagerie
as deer and fawns 
frequently roam through 
while woodpeckers and squirrels
and the occasional 
red tail hawk take refuge
in the branches 
and on the trunks 
of the old trees.

Photo from Joyce’s front porch in Hoff Woods in Westerville, Ohio, June 2022.

She loves
to sit quietly out there
in her wicker chair,
enjoying the cool mornings,
listening to the birds,
watching the squirrels scamper 
around her garden
and dig into the mulch
and bury whatever
precious nugget they’re 
coveting that day.

But it’s the red tail hawk 
and the deer and their fawns
that truly mesmerize her.

Oh look! she whispers,
her mouth gaping open,
as amazed as a small child,
her fingers coming to her lips
as she lets out 
a long, slow breath.

If there’s anything
in the sanctuary 
that bothers her 
it’s the few 
dead branches 
with the dead leaves
on the river birch 
directly in front
of her porch.

‘If someone hadn’t taken
my loppers,
I’d go right out there
and take care 
of that poor tree!’

Then the red tail hawk 
swoops through
and settles high
in the big oak. 

‘Oh look!, 
she says, 
completing another day
in her sanctuary.