Orts #771

two poems from Garrison Keillor’s  O, What a Luxury   (2013)

Slow Days of Summer

Slow days of summer

In this old town.

Sun goes across the sky,

Sometimes a car goes by.

There’s one right now.

Looks like a chevy.

Your Chev is blue.

This Chev is white and brown,

It isn’t slowing down,

Guess it’s not you.

You said you’d be here

Sunday or so.

Maybe by Saturday

If you could get away,

You didn’t know.

I love you, darling,

Waiting alone.

Waiting for you to show,

Wishing you’d call me though

I don’t have a phone.

Waiting for love to come,

All is alive.

Birds sing in angel tongues,

Small stones like diamonds

All down the drive.

Visions of love appear,

Clouds passing through.

All of my life I see

Passing so beautifully,

Waiting for you.

Around the corner,

An old dog appears,

Stands in the summer sun

Waiting for love to come.

Wish you were here.

Dark skies

Dark skies

Looking at me

Nothing but dark skies

Do I see

Dark skies

I look at them

Nothing but dark skies

It’s one a.m.

Ever so often the sun goes away

It happens at night, every day

It’s just a fact, like death and taxes

The planet revolving on its axis

Blue skies

Are up ahead

Goodnight, my darling

Go to bed