Another morning; waking as the clock
throws off its nightly doze, shrilling "Day
has come." A dump truck thunders down the block
with dumpster clutched in steel claws, like prey
to be devoured. Crows are shouting; they
will gather for the carrion. It's city
life: no quiet pastoral display
of sheep and clouds. It's down and dirty, gritty.
Six A.M, a fender-bender ditty
rouses cursing sleepers. Every lawn
is grazed by growling monsters. There's no pity
for the fragile silences of dawn.
A feather ghosts the sidewalk, slips my hold
as pre-dawn gray dissolves in rising gold.
Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside
Friday, April 26, 2013
Urban Ditty
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1 comment:
I like the description on this
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