The bougainvillea greets me abundantly
like when I enter our kitchen
scent of fish stew on simmer
fills my senses
The fountain attracts attention
of squirrels carrying acorns
hiding in our neighbor’s redwood tree .
Will they be thirsty?
One lone umbrella and a table
near a bed of roses
like a fly fisherman standing alone
in a mountain stream
A white a statue sits on the wooden fence.
It moves, has wings. It’s an egret.
I hear hurried steps on the stairs and a voice.
Kaylee? Is that you?
It’s June. Everyone
is coming home.