Trashcans carried out into the dark,
catching a glimpse of a sparrow, singing,
beak in outline, agape and uplifted,
Perching, twisting, calling, ringing.
If i approach, the song will fail.
Backing away, it starts anew,
silhouetted in streetlights,
dawn not far, brushing the east with blue.
Cars rush by out back,
heading for work, zooming to school.
Neither makes the sun rise,
none can its dawn overrule.
They live and move and have their being
in waiting, in working
out the schedule of sun and moon and spring.
Singing, some of us, all turning
to the rising and shining
of the new day,
some with song, others with taillights,
driving the other way.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment