Pool Day















The water shimmers in the blazing sun,
it ripples silently like waves upon the ocean.
The dragonflies dance merrily overhead,
the birds dash above them like dive bombers in war time.
I take a sip of cold beer.
The trees are still,
leaving only my imagination to determine whether they are alive.
The grass and innumerable weeds need a good trim.
The kids dart to and fro,
occasionally peeking above the water,
assuring me that two heads are still among us.
A lonely hawk hovers overhead,
circling effortlessly.
I lose sight of him briefly
before he reappears low on the horizon,
farther away now,
barely visible between the pine trees.
He is my friend,
carefully watching over me everywhere I go.
I see him on the back roads, on my walks and in my dreams.
I wonder if the dragonflies and birds interfere with his meditative flight.
An inter-continental airplane flight passes over my head.
Like the birds,
it knows of no boundaries at that elevation.
Admire it I do not,
I'd rather be the hawk.
A small rabbit sneaks up from behind me.
While he nibbles at the grass
I toss him some fresh blueberries,
he eats one before retreating to his safe hideaway in the bushes.
I am sure he'll return.
The neighbor's lawn mower comes to life.
The dragonflies and birds do not seem to care.
There is a fence here, six feet tall,
that keeps us secluded to our small, box-shaped patch of land.
The dragonflies and birds,
and my friend the hawk, pay it no mind.
Fences and walls do not pertain to them,
the never-ending skies are their domain.
Oh how I envy them.
The hawk, for now, is no where to be seen,
but I will surely see him again.
Maybe not today, possibly tomorrow and
when this life is over
I will fly along with him
high above the fence line,
unbounded by the limitless skies.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Different Time

The Stream's Cloak

When will she sing to me?