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.
Such a dreamy, relaxing and well-constructed poem, Martie. The song at "drain of day" perked my ears for the tune, especially after darning all those children and birds.
ReplyDeleteI like that you became violent in your own way near the end, and I, too, can hear the "snap and crunch." thoroughly enjoyed this, my friend.