ManicDDaily

On Memorial Day Weekend

First outdoor pee of the season, infused
with Vitamin B (to ward off
bugs), blends with blades of deep yellow-green like
liquefied Whitman,  the
world lush at my feet as I feel, excitedly, that I just
can’t wait.

Later, I think
of the date–of those not far
away who bunch cut flowers in
cut glass to place in other fields of
soft, much-better-tended grass–and my forehead bristles with
thanks, insufficiency, those fields
of soft green grass.
I’m so sorry,
I want to tell them–all who carefully
position those
bouquets, and those who
lay beneath them, and all those too
who have no bouquets.  I’m so sorry
for all that you’ve missed–the glistening,
urgent, buzz of being, this summer, this
bright day. 

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Here is an old poem, much re-written and re-posted  for Memorial Day weekend, and especially for the dVerse Poetry prompt hosted by Victoria C. Slotto.  I hope it’s not too weird or disrespectful feeling.  Veterans, and the lost, have  a great place in my emotional landscape, but Memorial Day weekend also always meant for me the glorious beginning of summer and the freedom it brings (if you have private places to be outside.)   An odd mix.