The air is full can sing
with drain of day
darning children and birds.
Someone drags a trashcan filled
glass, a box, leaves and things;
gated garden’s swing I hear sing
as air sucks in the sun and makes a wind chime stop
and listen to the end of day.
Airplane and train in magic become loud,
the music like a lonely ear
too proud to pay attention,
suddenly perks and nods.
at maddening bat fly-by to take
the last small thing in air it ate,
could almost hear the snap and crunch
the whirr of wing the light so lost.
Just a jewel in deep of pool
and a song was there you know,
probably all along.