Summer Song

We sat on the long porch
eating watermelon;
spiting seeds
over the railing
into the garden.
Soft and steady rain
buried them
in summer plops
among the gladiolas
and the phlox.
The rocking rocking chair
And the glider harmonized
groaning under Grandpa's weight.
Somewhere South
a thunder's grumble
rolled over the river
surrendering the night to
the Cardinals' broadcast
and Edna's violin practice.