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Theme Of A Summer Day: four parts

David

Member
Morning

The earth has made another circuit,

another day has come into being.

A day like yesterday with clear skies

and already an intimation of heat to come.



The dog and I are out at dawn.

She has found a scent to which

I am not privy and is digging in

the weeds, growling and lunging

after some unfortunate creature.



As for me, my mind is a mirror

of the prevailing silence, empty as the sky.

What a pleasure to have no thoughts at all,

to be merely taking within myself the rising sun

and the spread of colors across the sky.

Under The Sun

It's one of those hot hazy days

when all the sounds seem muffled

and distant and the air is still.

Summer in all its splendor

has finally arrived.



Bird songs emerge from the hedgerow

with a staccato chatter, and then

fade away into the background.

Next door the shrill voices of children

punctuate the silence and then it is

quiet once again. The only sound

remaining is the low evanescent whine

of insects in the grass.



As the heat of the day subsides

the omnipresent whine of insects

also disappears and is replaced

with the sweet chatter of birds.



Like all the days before it, today twirls

slowly under the sun, causing ever changing

shadows and patches of sunlight to dapple

the lawn like images in a slowly turning

kaleidoscope.



As the sun drops lower the birds emerge

from the hedgerow into the coolness

of the approaching evening and hop

across the lawn in search of insects.

It is their daily routine, as certain

as the rotation of the earth that wakes them

in the morning and brings them to roost at dusk.

All important pieces of the timeless patterns

of life under the sun.



8/02/04

Evening

The sun is no longer visible

and the air is cool

and full with the songs

of nesting birds.



The last remaining light

is slowly receding;

evening has come.



Above the yard

the black winged

shapes of bats

flit through the air,



and over the eastern horizon

the moon, just past full,

rises large and orange.

Night is here.

8/03/04

Night

Something wakes me at four a.m.,

perhaps it is the peepers. They are the

first thing I hear. Their voices

are a continual chorus, a

fluctuating refrain that fills the night.



I get out of bed and go into the yard

to listen. Above in the clear sky

the stars call thoughts from me



about such things as my place in the universe,

and if there are others out there

on a rock revolving around a sun someplace,

having destinies and hopes like me.

You know, the usual thoughts that come

when looking up into the night sky.



Then all at once I see them. The Perseids!

I count five or six meteorites flashing across the sky

in the course of several minutes. Enough to

put a smile on my face, but not as many

as there will be next week when there will

be so many all you can say is "wow".



8/04/04

.


What I tried to do with this four piece selection is to present a summer day. Did I do it? How did I make you feel?

Of course these poems are Copyright protected in 2004 by David H. Roche.
 
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