Nostalgia
How I miss the sound of the lonely train chucketty chucking along
snaking rails
the eerie hooting of its horn cutting a path through unyielding darkness
that carries one's mind on a mysterious journey to places unknown.
The lonesome hooting of the owl filling one with premonitions taught to us as old
wives tales.
The high pitched singing of the cicada among the bushy trees while
ghostly shadows lurch unsteadily in the shifting light of the moon.
From the distance and echoing down the hills the plaintive cry of the coyote
bring a chill to the bones and fear to the hunter.
The drip drip of raindrops on iron roofs,....stacatto beats
leading us into dreams.
Even the creak of the old house as it settles down to sleep
fills me with comfort and belonging.
Then dawn that gentle tone of day when early birds set up a chirp and a song
while farmers milk and tend their flock.
The smell of a hearty breakfast of bacon eggs and ham
tickle the senses shocking the sleeper into wakefullness
another day bright and crisp as mist slowly ebbs and bright sunshine comes out
to play.
while cattle graze along green sloping hillsides, dotting the landcape like raisin
on bread
and horses, fleet of hoof, gallop accross the ridges,flaming manes fanned by a
teasing wind.
My home in the country is what I miss where everyday sounds is a symphony
unique so unlike city sounds .....a clash of brass... a chaotic symphony
I miss life in the countryside where all sounds fuse together in blissful
harmony.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
