A One-and-Only Picnic

Picnicking with mother
happened only once –

The summer’s day
a perfect pitch of bright,
the breeze a welcome companion

Laid our cloth atop rickety table,
perched in anticipation
of waxy wrapped sandwiches
and homemade bread and butter pickles
and the certainty of some fresh-baked treat

Hadn’t taken so much as a single bite
before the buzzing started –
bees inviting themselves to our repast
lured by the sweetness of our fare –

sent mother screaming
commanding us to pack up at once

Never again did we venture
further than our back yard,
reserved the park for drive by visits,
and, if lucky, the occasional
opportunity for a swing or a slide,
as long the bees stayed out of sight.

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VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

6 thoughts on “A One-and-Only Picnic”

      1. In Tennessee – DEFINITELY hot, and ultra muggy. Also full of chiggers … I am reluctant to leave concrete again in this state!! Still scratching what I encountered a week ago in Nashville. (In spite of miserable itching, chiggers at least pose no threat to life so far as I know … unlike bees do for sensitive people.)

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