The slow drizzle of gray-turned-rain
laps gently on the canvas covered deck
tapping its own rhythm to the quiet continuo
of Corinthian chimes muting the wind
the slow drizzle of gray-turned-rain
sliding off branch and rail, soaking
the thirsty ground as yellow finches
and the occasional hummer in search of food
lap gently on the canvas covered deck,
the day’s rhythms of hunger and its filing
marking the passage of hours, staging
the shape of a day. Downhill the new house rises
tapping its own rhythm to the quiet continuo
of our life here, its shape and pace
undisturbed by change, though
change unfolds all around us.
swb
Oh, this is quite good!
thank you thomas for your comment … much appreciated
Beautiful. They words chosen are palpable. I can feel the drizzle of the rain and hear the birds as they search for food and see the “thirsty ground.” I like the line “undisturbed by change, though change unfolds all around us.”
I appreciate your singling out the line(s) that spoke to you, meka. That’s a practice I use in my workshops – helps the writer know that the words ‘found good ears’ in the reader. Thank you!
thank you so much!