A Saturday Reflection
I hear the chirruping of birds.
It emerges from vast hidden spaces
from wherever the birds may be.
Their twittering sounds are scattered,
interspersed with cricket sounds
and the intermittent whimpers of a lonely pup
that seems to be a distance not too far away.
The birds refuse to show themselves.
They are like the happy people of my neighborhood
busy with their lives. . . .
The birds and my neighbors elude me.
The crickets keep to their camouflage in the grass.
The little dog's sad cries have now disappeared.
On this ordinary warm June afternoon
I begin to wonder where Robin Redbreast went.
It seems like it was yesterday - a brighter day -
I saw her in my very own front yard.
If she's singing now, I wouldn't know.
I do not know the song of a sparrow from a lark's.
I'd rather “feel” joy, not just hear it.
And I'd rather see with my own eyes
those crickets at their play (I'm just that way).
I'd like to have that little dog with me.
I'd pat his head and stroke his coat and say,
"Robin Redbreast hides from us today.
She may have gone away, but I am here, sweet dog.
I understand. I understand."
For the the 'ALL YOURS (Apr 20)' Poetry Contest of Brian Strand
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