The Summer Starts

The Summer Starts

It was evening.  I was walking towards the sunset in the west.
The light of day was ebbing but the heavens were alight.
The air was still and humid and the trees were silent, dark.
The rain had kissed the streets and washed the city's grime away –
And water, clear, in curbside pools, reflected sky and clouds...

I walked in silence, breathing in the moisture in the air.
The schools and work had ended, freeing me, awhile, of care...
I walked towards a funeral home.  Another one had died...
I asked the clouds who next would leave.  But none of them replied...

So summer starts – and freedom brings awareness and release.
And yet, I hear, in solitude, the clamor of the crowd.
So little fishes in a pool, beside a waterfall,
Might hear the ceaseless roar – and sense, perhaps, their transience...
And so might soldiers question clouds, expecting no reply...

2013 June 26th, Wed. & 27th, Thu.
Brooklyn