thesocialpoet

The Sound Drivers

In Poetry on March 10, 2014 at 1:02 pm

Like red ribbons flying through the air

 

First one and then another and another

The sound is fast and urgent

 

Time is at stake

 

Life could be lost

I don’t know a thing about it.

 

But the scream and the pitch, belong to me

 

I never see the hulking beast that rides in from the east

 

At 3 am in the morning

To be fed upon my garbage

 

It slowly lurches and groans down the street for more

 

But the bang and the rattle belong to me

 

The engines race to get some place

I know neither the face, nor the destinations

 

I only know the whirl of their speed belongs to me.

 

The tick of my clock

The chirping of the birds

 

The occasional clack of the furnace

 

They all belong to me.

 

They rise and fall until they are nothing at all.

I fall back into sleep.

 

Linda Morgan Smith, USA

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