Apricot Night

my living room





Last night Emma and I rolled.

In the deep 

Sort of dark


We silently skirted potholes.

A restless bird

Given to insomnia

Cawed a weary warning

As we passed.

Venus gleamed.


A scent

Slipped into 

My sphere.

Ahead of us

Dotting black pavement

Were leavings

Of the first blooming

Apricot tree;


Impossibly tender and innocent


Of bursting bloom

Slipped toward us

Through the night air.

I released

My wheelchair joystick,


To let the barely pink gift

Give its’ self.

I lifted my head 

As Emma rustled nearby

And felt my being

Slightly dusted

With something

More than me.

Onward we went

Cruising the dark;

Our pace slowed 

By olfactory arrest.









6 Responses to “Apricot Night”

  1. Pam on March 17th, 2017

    So very beautiful, Cathy.
    Thank you ??

  2. Adele Rosen on March 17th, 2017

    beautiful beautiful beautiful
    I too have been taken by the blossoming of this week
    i love to picture you two in the darkened streets of downtown xxxxxxxx

  3. Irene on March 17th, 2017

    This reminds me of a corner of the UCLA campus where night blooming jasmine grows…the smell transports you to wonderful places!

  4. Jenny on March 19th, 2017

    Dear Cathy , me being a practical and worrying person, and not an artist or poet, and although Em is fierce and brave, do you carry a cellphone/alarm if you get stuck in a pot hole/encounter a larger dog/lose your way/change your mind and want to meet a friend for margerhitas? Xxxxx

  5. Laura Hegfield on March 25th, 2017

    How exquisite you recollection of these moments with your sweet Emma, and the sweet scents of the world waking.

  6. Dennis Chamberlain on March 30th, 2017

    This is wonderful and beautiful. I keep coming back to read it over and over.

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