a wall of pale,
purple cascades
across the front
porch and onto
the pergola that
shades the patio
where Alex and I sip
our tea
and reflect upon the
weather
such sweet scent
borne on the air
drying the beads of
sweat that form
on my forehead on
this midsummer day
chores are done,
cleaning is done,
and we are content
to put up our feet
and swing gently
back and forth
no faster than
necessary, like a lullaby,
and with the sweet
perfume of the wisteria,
we can go gently into sleep
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