Just a little one I jotted down today

Rain.
With the back porch door open.
And all the windows welcoming
The fresh, cool breeze the thunder brings.
Me.
At the kitchen table reading.
The potatoes boiling on the stove.
And the leftover vegetables for my stock
Make the rain smell like
Basil, red and green peppers, scallions.
The plop-plop-plop sound of boiling water.
And the click-clack-clack of heavy rain.
A boom of thunder.
This is a hearty, warm home.

Some girl in the autumn.

Today I step off the bus
And see:
A pretty girl with
Long hair blowing, flowing
Behind her briskly-walking
Thin, jaunty body.
Girl I don’t know hurts me,
Only in her beauty.
Her carefree attitude a color in the atmosphere,
A painting this September morning:
A girl with dark blue jeans, light orange jacket,
And clear, white skin in a town’s crowd—
Still, my eye is drawn to her.

And, for a moment,
I thought I was her, maybe once, some time ago.

I know, though,
I never was a pretty girl with long, straight hair,
Strikingly clothed and a contented look,
With a face another stared at
For its grace and pleasantness,
Walking briskly in the late summer.

And I can’t decide if that hurts,
Or if I like it.