Meadow Strings
Beyond the back veranda
And windowed door, agape in the autumn air
Carried on the shaded, hushed breath of twilight
Is the sound of crickets buzzing.
In their shrill sopranos,
A ricocheting orchestra
Chirps from both sides
Of the quiet curve of the paved promenade--
An all day concert
That cycles
With an evening crescendo.
And windowed door, agape in the autumn air
Carried on the shaded, hushed breath of twilight
Is the sound of crickets buzzing.
In their shrill sopranos,
A ricocheting orchestra
Chirps from both sides
Of the quiet curve of the paved promenade--
An all day concert
That cycles
With an evening crescendo.
No comments:
Post a Comment