Bay Window Poem by Charlotte Ballard

Fan blowing.
Tall trees still.
A minute before it rains,
A humming bird at a
Red tinged feeder.
Black cat shaking
Excess water off.
Graceful steps flowing,
Untrained dancer of fur.
A leaf waving goodbye
To summer, and to fall -
An empty birdhouse brings
Art instead of form.
Geese splashing knee-deep
In blue children's tide-pool
Rumbled grey feathers,
Shaken to dry.
Clean house, almost -
Crumbs swept but
More are born
In sandwiches made -
Soup's on.
A dead frog in the middle
Of a clean mopped floor.
Husband brings chocolate
And kisses nestled in
Curved necks and laughing eyes.
Click of keys on the keyboard
As tight fingers tap an ancient
Rhythm out-
Touched with joy.