A Basket of Days
Up in the trees,
Cold from this winter night,
Bronze leaves dangling
Along the wet hedges
A train passes,
And doesn't say much.
Sweet hot sun gently
Placed on the surface of my
Face- easy to smile.
The roar of jet
engines- tilting onto a
Set destination
For two nights a
Constant beeping-
Location unknown
Foggy morning-
Down the crowded roadside
Mist swirling in the light
Shadows on the rocks
A small bird takes rest on a
Branch- the buzzing bees
Everywhere the sun
Shines is gold- the valley
Below the haze
Yellow daisies
Sprouting throughout the fields
Early in spring's joy
Moon light on the
Rocks and dead leaves-
Some days before it's full
Thin empty branches
No light-no color
The darkest of view
The morning skunk
Hobbling across the street
Returns to the brush
Candle lit room
No voices range out
But he who stands before us
He has many
Poems- all spoken like
One long biography
Through the crystal
Clear glass a man with a flute-
Leaning with every blow
This night with few clouds
But a full moon-ways away
The pink blossoms
Thistled pine
And off further...
Everything else in the night
Waking up from a nap
My car window covered
In tiny dew drops
Walking up the
marble steps up to a wooden
Door- further unknown
Outside the grocery
Store, everyone is holding
Roses- faces truly sad.
Instantly finding the
Right roses, I swoop them up
And take a big whiff!
Ah! These trees have
Blossomed- the scent of life in
More ways than just one
Above the shingles
Of a brick building, I watch
All who pass by
Busy is everyone-
Pacing a worlds length
Right before my toes.
My surroundings
Pulsing with great noise- I return
To the silent stars
Between the rush of
Walkers, a couple dancing a
Quick salsa
From afar I gaze
At skyscrapers- a light flicks
On, then off again.
Tall and slim skyscrapers-
Man's desperate attempts
To flee earth.
Lying love down in
The candle light- her skin does
Not go untouched
Polished marble
Reflecting the look of the
Sun in someone's eyes
The wind slides
Easily through his black hair-
His smile to all
The water flows
Outward- rippling to the
Edge where the bird sits
Two sparrows sail
Over blank rooftops
Landing in the mint trees
The sound of
Rustling branches-
The palm fans in open air
Helicopters
Hovering in one place-
The loud sounds overhead
The night is long-
A pack of cigarettes lay
Resting on the table
All as one
the birds flail from the
Telephone wire- and return
Copyright © Brandon Ward | Year Posted 2014
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