A trail wends its way
Between the corn
and Metrolink rails
where songbird choirs
serenade our morning stroll.
The rising sun spreads
shafts of light
through prismatic clouds -
bathing the sky with
pink and lavender strata.
Beside the tracks
a cardboard sign
foretells the coming
of a new apartment hive:
“You could be home already”
Soon hammer strokes
will echo in the valley
like woodpeckers
feasting on bugs
in a sycamore snag -
and cornfields will morph
Into fescue moats
ringing identical rows
of vinyl-clad palaces.
Hovering over new tacked roofs,
the intrepid sun will
still cast halos
on our morning hikes -
while songbirds serenade
from wires and chimneys
beneath the pastel sky.
(October, 2007)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It would seem that birds will find something to sing about whatever the circumstances might be. Beautiful write, Robert. The last stanza is especially appealing. Take care. Warmest regards, 'Sandra