A finch, midflight to the feeder,
Stops in the sunlit air
Outside the window.
The bubbled stream of water
Stands like a classic column
In the enameled sink.
A single syllable
From the announcer’s mouth
Sounds a note not yet a word.
Your eyes
Brimmed with tears
Still have not looked away.
©2011 John I. Blair
No comments:
Post a Comment