By Joan Dobbie, copyright 2008

of the year, I was
lying on my back
on the picnic table

talking to Bea
on the phone.

Above me, the sky
was brilliant blue
the craggy old cherry tree

blossoming pink
& filling with birds

of all sizes & breeds.
Below me the lush green grass
I was much too lazy to mow, my

pillow a brick of cement.
We were talking

about men, sex and creativity
telling each other
how special we were

& why the hell didn’t they get it?

Note: the above right sculpture is 
"Dragon" by Joan Dobbie, copyright 2008
-- photo by Victoria Ramsay

Categories: poem by Joan Dobbie