Chad Wood Poet Free verse

Of Atmosphere and Sound

They are cast in the shadows of thick,
grey clouds beneath sheets of
drizzling rain-sounds.  Tiny fingers 
are tapping on reverberant walls
when at once, he puts a record on of 
lonely pianos playing.  

Brewing dark liquids, they contemplate...

Yet coffee is not the only brew.  There is 
also a melting pot of atmosphere and sound,
sparking great and heavy ideas, causing him
to ponder life and death and all that does

and does not matter.

A steam rises from the rim of his cup, 
where heat kissed the harvest air, as 
a minor chord then rises in time
with this click of a droplet's rhythm.  
He blinks, finding then that he is 
alone, and lost in that flow

of song and spirit and sound.

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