A Mild Fall Noon Gone Bad
Eagles hover above shrilling and circling under clouds,
their curved beaks seek prey in the azure lake...
searching and swooping to snatch the Tundra swans
placidly swimming in the waters after daybreak.
The October wind isn't tame and it turns ferocious,
blowing and whistling over the water that riddles;
and maliciously insane, it speeds up to spread chaos...
bending trees, creating a chill that a small robin fears.
Twigs and branches are carried far and abruptly collide
with fragile umbrellas held by strong hands to minimize
damage, but leaves and dust get in everyone's eyes;
they burn and drip with tears, folks can't compromise.
The Great Lawns is swarmed with ugly debris that angers
teams who want to play baseball and enjoy their Sunday;
and standing and waiting for calm, nervousness increases
showing fits of anger, lifting their arms to curse their day.
The wild October wind still blows and howls, fooling and infuriating
the sad boys who planned another day of fun in Central Park;
and resembling trembling larks, on their calendar they mark
a Fall noon gone bad, the mad boy drops his bat and starts crying.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016