Decktime

image by glenn buttkus

Decktime

“My new house has a deck that wraps around my writing

room, outside my many windows I’ve hung bird-feeders

that stimulate my imagination.”--Julia Cameron.

I sport a baseball-sized scar

above my right knee, where

years ago I had fallen through

some bad boards on my old deck.

We, like many people, enter our home

through the back door, walking over from

the garage and crossing a fabulous new(ish)

deck to do so.

A couple of friends of mine, who

do some construction work in their spare time,

built a new deck for us, triple strength,

way above code, vowing that I would never

fall through it again;

“You could park a 1940 Buick on this bitch,”

they proudly boasted. 

They have business cards that simply state.

TWO FUCKING GUYS CONSTRUCTION:

Never more than 3 do-overs on any project.

We whistle while we work, & gratefully

accept food & hugs.”

During the second summer of the “new” deck,

they returned to build a fabulous roof over it.

It has become another room, an extension

of our house. My wife has decorated it with

a dozen pots of brightly colored perennials. 

I bought her a large & lovely ruby red

watering can, nestled in now between

purple & yellow blossoms.

The deck slider/swing has a carnival-striped

cover that always makes me smile, faintly

hearing a calliope whenever I look at it.

On bright summer mornings I enjoy snapping

photos of the shadow play from the wide beams

& the shapely pickets below the perfect

bannister caps.

Our 3 year old granddaughter has learned

to ride her new pink tricycle safely, & it’s

a joy to watch her whizz back & forth

on the deck, laughing at rain. 

Sometimes I sit out there with my yellow

legal tablet, writing or outlining poetry,

listening to the rustling of the thousand

leaves on the neighbor’s massive maple tree.

In the winter I can see Mt. Rainier peeking

through its barren branches, but after Spring

I have to stroll out to the alley to witness

its serenity. 

Our perfectly manicured & watered lawn

always pleases me as I stare beyond it

to undiscovered worlds, and buzzing word hordes

that hive up behind every rhododendron bush,

every weeping willow or tulip tree ringing

the dark spaded soil of our flower beds.

It is raining hard at the moment,

and the passionate pelting

on our plexiglass roof

serenades & soothes me,

so very safe in my haven. 

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over on dVerse Poets Poetics

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