I started a few poems in my notebook, then waited for further inspiration. It didnt come so I thought well maybe these are just four little pieces in and of themselves.
A cacophony of birds, lawn mower,
airplane, bullfrog, fan
here in this cabin
usually engulfed in silence.
June--before the cabin becomes
unbearable in the heat
windows open
loneliness dissolves in spring.
This wet summer passes
and I have made no decision
as to my fate.
In my chair I stare
out the window
fall asleep like a narcoleptic
my dizzy self staggers
and curls into cat curves.
The green tree frogs
call in the dusk
back and forth an echo
of friendship.
