These Days I Wake Up Poem by Rob Clarke

These days I wake up
To the sound of sirens and
Mr. Wu screaming at his wife.
When I was young I woke up
To the nickering of horses
In the orchard next to our farmhouse.

These days I wake up
To cold air, conditioned by
A machine stuck in my window.
When I was young, I woke up
To a hot summer wind scented by
The mystery of being alive.

These days I wake up
To the smell of exhaust fumes
And garbage rotting by the curb.
When I was young I woke up
To the smell of fresh hay
In the barn where we camped out.

These days I wake up
And wonder how long before
The city claims this life I've chosen.
When I was young I woke up
In wonder at the gift of a whole day
And dreamed of life in the city.

Robert Clarke
Copyright 1996