by Mathew Paust
From a high branch among cranberry-red leaves
of the dogwood across the street
a mockingbird trills his virtuoso appreciation
to the dawn sun's chromatic whimsy in the stratus layers
floating placidly far above
while nearer the unmarked columned portico,
its autumn flag aflutter in a chilling breeze,
youthful willow oaks grant solemn attention to the aluminum gurney
bearing a black-wrapped figure as it rolls in silence
to the plain van at the curb.
In a moment the lone attendant
secures the gurneyed figure
and without a word
drives it away.
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Seen on my morning walk Wednesday
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Merry and sombre. Beautiful poem.
solemn attention indeed *
Thank you Erika and Beate, and Anonymous!
Wow, a virtuoso piece.
" the dawn sun's chromatic whimsy"
Got me there. *
Beautiful. Evocative contrast.
Tim and Dianne, many thanks!
Must've been a really nice walk *
Up to then it was nicely routine, Foster. Then it became...er, inspirational?
Liked this very much.
We go about our lives and die, and still the dogwood leaves turn with the season and the mockingbird runs through its repertoire. You have captured a truth about life. *