My feathered summer neighbors,
Who built a nest on my balcony,
Have long since moved on.
For six months now,
There have been no tenants
Above or below me.
My more urban life,
Since moving from the woods,
Has been relatively peaceful.
Wait, what are those new sounds?
Furniture dropping into place,
And pipes flowing within the walls.
And the muffled rat-a-tat sounds
Of a toddler's energy, room-to-room,
Across the ceilings.
Ah, the joy! The discoveries!
The explorations of new-formed minds
Propelled by new-found feet!
It was nice while it lasted.
I became spoiled with solitude.
Now my inertia will be changed.
I'll get up earlier; stay away longer.
Like Robert Frost wrote so naturally,
'Nothing Gold Can Stay'.
The doors upstairs…
They slam like exclamation points…
! -! ! -! ! ! -! ! -!
'Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on…
La-la, how the life goes on.'
Desmond and Molly, third-floor walk-up,
… with their first-born?
9-16-2016
While it lasted! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life- that amalgam of predictable and unpredictable experiences. I share your formatting frustrations, but being able to just open a poem is a treat compared to the last few days.
So true.