Chuck deVarennes


I Sat in an Arbor


I sat in an arbor 
In a wicker chair
My Dad sat there 
Wearing a big straw hat

He never wears hats
He did often smile
He was calm and smiling at me
I was born with his nature

Restless 
We distract our selves
Differently
He's always doing something

I'm always moving
He quiets his mind
Performing chores 
My mind's rarely quiet

We both sat still
Not a tense freeze
But peaceful ease
Filled and flowed between us

We did not speak
Nor needed too
Yet we were not apart
Breathing the same peace

In that green lit place
I had found in a healing
Dream 
The demons had fled

And we understood
I was blood of his blood
My face a near copy
Except for our eyes

His deep French brown
While I've my mother's
Irish green and her reckless
Passion   his a quiet affection

We knew we were more alike
Than not 
Under the cool filtered sun
In fruitful silence    together

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