Frank Avon

Buried With Him - Poem by Frank Avon

In mid-September
I sit on my deck
warmed by the sun,
immersed in sounds:

the clicks of katydids, in waves
a chipper songbird to my left
the bass of a lawnmower in the distance
a breeze among the leaves, whispering

I am reading
about the American theocracy
but the voices that surround me
baptize me in sounds.

Topic(s) of this poem: nature, sound

Comments about Buried With Him by Frank Avon

  • Melvina Germain (10/17/2015 10:43:00 PM)

    So tender and beautiful, soothing to the soul...I love it..... (Report) Reply

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  • Kelly Kurt (9/15/2015 6:57:00 PM)

    As always, a lovely, sensory poem. Thanks, Frank (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Poem Edited: Tuesday, September 15, 2015

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