It's just poetry, it won't bite

Accidental Springs

04.08.18 Posted in today's words by

Linda Sonrisa’s most recent poem to appear here was “Retreat” (June 2017)

Accidental Springs
By Linda Sonrisa

Surprise springs flow
in a humming
beneath the second home beside the ninth hole,
perfect for the retired executive

After his long, long tour of duty
through crowded lowlands, on beaten tracks of traffic, passing broken barrios
slicing through brackish streams of pressing problems
left unsolved

his Spartan style
shudders to silence, he
freeze-frames the master web of plots, troubled thoughts,
and regrets
that spiral out like comets
all the way
to the farthest stars
scintillating in the cold night sky

Hidden springs hide inside
A breastplate of mountain stone
Here his hard carapace of armor overturns, and
becomes instead a softened shell, upturned
in which he floats at last
in currents of a blue lake that
reflect back
cathedral spires of sequoia and
brooding pines

a forest filled with birdsong
calls him to early morning mass

his broken feet, gnarled by neuropathy
go up
on the battered coffee table that holds
coasters, candles, and family albums filled
with strangers

He drinks down his Bloody Mary fast and hard—

and laughs to himself as he
waddles through the kitchen, bear-like,
long-suffering Self-made Man—
former altar boy, now husband, father, grand-dad, boss.

He makes another.
Swizzles the brew with a stick of celery from the corner store and
then, lightly, with his fingers
savors the spice

while his warrior feet
a touch of the undertaker’s grit
between his toes

Reverent pines beckon
through the glass door
whole, pristine, full of promise

He steps outside into the alpine air
looks up, and
at the wave
that he knows
comes his way.

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