BLOSSOM
She lived under
The screened in porch
In front of the cottage
Warm evenings we would
Sit by candlelight
Listen to the sounds
Of the night
Crickets and that nice bug
I called him with the
Long constant trill
Sometimes guitar sounds
Vibrating out into the night
From this old box
Between my hands
Older than me by three years
Handmade with care
You can tell that from the sound
If you listen with that in mind
She would appear
Just beside my chair
Moving sleepily into the night
Not two feet away
Large white stripes
Much larger than her
Off Cape brethren
Equal white and black almost
She looked back sometimes
At our odd sounds and light
Before shuffling off into the night
Some said we should block off
The entrance to keep her out
Something made me feel secure
In her welcome close to our world
Some connection there
You can’t describe
A quiet friend under
The screened in porch
