Summer Music

Only a memory of summer remains. Only an open window tells of fair weather. (a gamble, after all, that winter’s hope in solitude Gods of summer sit in state, Slow to soothe… How the tissue flutter was not now is... How the red intrudes upon a frozen eye… Only a leaf- dead birch as reminder Stark against the new, blue sky. Presently...a busy air, so faint one must force an ear… Wings awhir, skinny legs skittering foliage alive for the first time... the very first time. Suddenly...the noise of spring! What thinks a toad of all this... soft?... A fish... wet? Does a robin thrill in breast with a flourish? Or...is a fear alive out there that in one second’s hesitation... forfeit? Is this the noise of spring? Dave Austin