By Carolyn Pinet
More rain and the grass grows
more intensely green
while the lilac fades.
Everyone has quit the cafe,
I sit outside with two older dogs -
the en garde beagle barks at nothing.
The orange umbrella is open above me -
will it rain or shine on it?
Impossible to predict
on this early June day
with half the country on fire,
and many submerged in floods.
But here our green grass dazzles
beneath a feather-boa sky
and parking-lot puddles shimmer.
"Green, I love you green," sang Lorca
to greet his Granada spring - look around:
each green blade bristles, glimmers with moisture.
Cafe M, Bozeman. June, 2023