I lie down to retire;
early again;
missing a song, perhaps
to see me to sleep.
Until I realize that such a
possibilty lies
just outside.
Choruses of laughter mounted
upon other rings of chatter
accompanied by
cacophanies of dinner ware
backed up by a dog's
bark off on
the other side of the tracks.
Cocks miss their cue
and overecstatic;
they sing too soon.
Children bounding,
up and down and threw
falling misshapen streets
percuss
the otherwise
irrythmic orchestra.
My own music broke
but if it were
to be working
I would have never heard
such valiant attempts
to share theirs.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I love your poems! Thats too bad your music broke though. I´m going to visit next weekend, espereisme, vos!
Post a Comment