Touch
familiar foot traffic
past a garden, plush
menagerie of color and scents
nervy stance
from a snowball bush, resplendent
with white rounded vases of blooms
stately with milky petals
in clumped clover-leaf shapes
tempting touch like a face symmetrical with compelling eyes
two small girls totter ahead
cup flower-clusters
push petals into rosy faces
peacockish vain
in a cherished space
a grandma explains, "snowballs of summer"
soothing presence for children, giddy
who cradle plump blooms like giants in hand
white petals plucked
specks in small hands
never fully sure of what they hold
moments that stammer
that leave us in bursts
as time flits through summer eves
to touch foreign worlds that bead like water on skin
a flow into comfort - when it comes
in streams
Copyright © Brian Sambourne | Year Posted 2023
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