Julia’s Garden

In memory of Julia Terwilliger

Tomorrow is her birthday and tonight she is drinking
champagne. She has always loved her birthday—
the green sunlight of it, the self-acknowledgment, the peace—
and so she wakes up early, as if something wonderful
is about to happen. It is. The sunrise on her small lake
will be beautiful; she will walk through her garden
with her dog; she will feed the baby mallards and the baby
gallinules. She will feed their mothers, too.

Something wonderful is always ready to happen
but, especially, now: the quiet of this place, its deep green
peacefulness, each ripple on the lake, pleases her.
Just last night, the full moon rose over her garden; moonlight
swam on the lake. It was dusk and very beautiful.
Champagne bubbled in her glass.


© Charles Fishman