On our front porch at the Johnson Funny Farm, we have two loveseats and coffee tables (one with a small travel cooktop), an assortment of plants, a couple of birdhouses, and an old red milk churn from a farm near Port Royal, Kentucky where I lived a few years as a child. There is also a set of hummingbird wind chimes that lights up the night (a gift from my grandchildren) and some hummingbird feeders right off the porch in the yard and front hardscape bed. It’s a comforting place to drink coffee and sit, especially in the early mornings and dusky evenings ~ and even then, both overhead fans have to put some elbow grease into whirling a breeze to keep it bearable out there. It’s a place I sit several times each day to feel the serenity and peace of rural Georgia. I know every crack in the sidewalk well, and I know the patterns and the critters~ and I wish my writing friends were here to sit for an hour and just write and sip sweet tea. Here is what they’d experience:
On the Front Porch at the Funny Farm
in the hazy morning while the dew is
still on the grass like a tiny clear paperweight
tugging each green blade,
the hummingbirds come by the dozens for breakfast
one third-year lady hummer is the one who hovers a
foot from my face, always grateful for the free meal
in the drizzle of noon while the
dogs amble out to do their thing
the tree frog who lives in the cover of
the Blackstone grill leaps out onto the table
checking the neighborhood for any
signs of toad or lizard crime
in the late afternoon glow when
the sun is beaming orange in the western sky
the Pileated Woodpecker family who lives in the
old dead tree by the barn begin their fig quest
in the towering tree around the side of the house –
an adult pair and four little woodpeckers
in the dusky evening just before the sun sets
when the concrete is still holding its warmth
a mama and baby rabbit hop along the front walkway
along the green, green grass line nibbling away
in the clover patch off to the side
then scampering in zig zags across the
front lawn and I smile at their presence
even as I wonder what will become of them
in the cruel, cruel food chain
Common Threads 