I thought to trim the tree Not even knowing what kind of tree it was Not noticing red buds dangled Among the green leaves Like trumpets or earrings And when the wind blew In late afternoon Not hearing a small symphony Accompanied by whirring wings Of a ruby-throated hummingbird Playing among the orchestra’s brass.
Safe at Home
ReplyDeleteAmongst the traffic, an angry voice. Muted by the window up.
I crack the window, a louder "HEY!"
On my way back from the bank branch off the tree trunk of Garey Avenue.
My head turns toward the drama.
Strike one, against the sidewalk the familiar ping of aluminum.
Then, crack~pop~shatter at once: strike two against the car window over there.
That's a home run for me where I dial Nine one one!
"What's your name, mam?"
H a c k m a n, like the actor, but he's not my uncle.
You have great endings!
DeleteThank you.
DeleteMovement in a tree
ReplyDeleteI thought to trim the tree
Not even knowing what kind of tree it was
Not noticing red buds dangled
Among the green leaves
Like trumpets or earrings
And when the wind blew
In late afternoon
Not hearing a small symphony
Accompanied by whirring wings
Of a ruby-throated hummingbird
Playing among the orchestra’s brass.
Rick Stepp-Bolling
I love the musical aspect. I can relate. Great, Esteppbo.
ReplyDeleteThese are wonderful poem!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThe ornamental plum died last year.
ReplyDeleteNo purple leaves pulled by spring breezes
No white blossom snow to fall.
What remained was too brittle
Too ready for ants
So I laid it down gently
It moved like a man
Stiff and slowly
To pieces.
leaves sway
ReplyDeleteforetelling of coming
allergy eyes