The Plant Poem by Dan Hanosh

Constant murmur,
drowning the chatter
of the children, splashing
in the pool.

Birds chirping
foretelling
of the extended
heat.

An Airplane soaring
overhead, only its
roar of its engines
tells me of its presence.

Not sweltering,
just hot, bordering
miserable,
humid enough to sweat.

Still the motor
can be heard
in the
distance.

An occasional bug
dive bombs, annoying me
enough to write
about him.

The morning dove hoots,
a robin sings,
announcing
evening has come.

Still the
hum,
radiates
the ear.

If I wasn’t
distracted, the constant
racket would become
deafening.

Slowly, I would focus
on it, it alone,
driving me, driving me
crazy.