Someone is always waiting ?

Sporadic Lives These Skopelos cats with Adamant expression Have no retirement plan Only hard days of lying listlessly Cashing in on the Bounty of the river. Neatly picking the bones dry Stomachs spread on moistened cement In the noon day heat After the garden hose has passed. by Persephone Abbott

I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it... by Joyce Kilmer

Dull Tan Moths with anonymous markings no distinct patterns, flutter in every corner of my yard. At least a dozen, unusual, all in one place, at one time with me watching them. If they were Monarchs, would I find it more incredible? Would I stare more intently? Wouldn't I run and holler to those inside the house— "Come take a look at this!" If they were Swallowtails, would I try to run and get my camera to snap a photo? Instead, I stand and watch the dull tan moths lighting on the top of the pool water for a tiny drink in hot August. I scoop them up, help them fly before they get sucked into the skimmer. I watch, I smile as they dry their wings and fly to the next yard, without me. by Larry Lawrence

“Listen with curiosity. Speak with honesty. Act with integrity. The greatest problem with communication is we don’t listen to understand. We listen to reply. When we listen with curiosity, we don’t listen with the intent to reply. We listen for what’s behind the words.” ― Roy T. Bennett

In Jardin Japones, cherry blossoms— the thrill of unexpected beauty, delicate pinks, a sudden splash of colour in an Argentine winter’s end. The ponds and bridges, stones and trees assert a quietude, insist a brief respite. I accept this gift of a second spring, real and metaphorical, embrace its promise, will bloom too. by Jennifer Walcott

“I don’t think I do understand people very well. I only know whether I like — or dislike — them.” — E. M. Forster