Thursday, August 27, 2015

Urban August

I want to have some quiet time
sit beside a fountain fine
by which I've never sat
and lay for peace a welcome mat

I choose one of the lovely three
which seemed to have most privacy
but found it very hard to find
past fence and rocks it hid behind

I sit on a boulder with a sigh
remove sunglasses from my eyes
immediately I'm swarmed by wasps
while at my feet, green slime and moss

lap the edges of the pond
of which I do not yet feel fond
Intact, I stretch my aching back
upon the rock but then attacked

by ants from where they came, who knows,
that's just how urban sunning goes
The traffic noise makes my ears choke
the air above it, haze and smoke

Soft wind makes mist from fountain spray
land on my neck like gentle rain
while overhead the jet too low
prepares to land with all its souls

Construction pounds behind the fence
a bus roars by and belches scent
of diesel and the asphalt heat
with added drone of sportscar speed

To stay I must set noise aside
pretend it's rhythm like the tide
let each drone and bang and buzz
remind me of the day that was

a beauty in uncommon verse
in quiet conversation spurts
of love and joy shared friend to friend
a spray of praise at odd day's end

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