Someone Else's Harmonica
We can’t catch the breezes inside,
so we take to the porches, verandas, fire escapes.
Watch an asbestos moon rise
over steaming rooftops,
and count flags from far away cities.
Below, beetles swallow our Elm trees whole,
as I listen to the neighbors bickering
and someone else’s harmonica.
Copyright © Gwen Walsh | Year Posted 2011
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