deepundergroundpoetry.com

Above Rockhollow

A robin sits on the left side of the tree,  
showered in blossom,  
staring out across the lawn feeling  
the changed wind  
sweep across the setting,  
low in the valley.  
Crisp calls echo through the space,  
telling stories to their winged friends and relatives  
as I sit at the breakfast table, looking out, sipping overbrewed coffee  
admiring the greenery, pondering my next job, making lists  
and quickly  
scratching them out  
as my teething urchin  
finishes another raspberry  
and screams at me for more  
like so many chicks in Spring.  
Ah, there are many, very many things  
my hands, my head, my legs could do here  
but likelihood is her skin will be on mine  
as I stare out on robins and my dear, reliable warbler
going about their day.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published | Edited 25th Apr 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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