Tuesday, April 4, 2017


The last thing that I feel today
is visionary, work and play
have filled my mind with base distractions
and tempered all my gut reactions.
It would require an incredible
event or trauma to affect my mind
and so I leave the task behind
in search of something edible.

A friendly crow perched on a tree
regards my dinner cordially
and lacking interest, he flies
a floating freckle on the sky's bright face
as people come and go
around my table as I eat,
they fill and vacate every seat,
a steady constant flow.

I wonder if they notice me
sitting, writing poetry,
immortalizing with my words
the simple scene, the passing birds,
the blackened pavement winding by
permeated by the heat,
and noises from the busy street
beneath the clouded sky.

Alison Day