Today's poem is not the piece I originally wanted to post.  However, after reading my first choice for the hundredth time I found something I did not like.  Such is the life, I suppose.  I'll work on that and offer it at a later date.
     One of my favorite things to do is sit beneath the shady canopy of my large maple tree and read, write, or simply watch and listen.  The following poem came from listening.

 

 

Eavesdropping...

 

...in my yard, I hear fragments

of cardinals calling children home for night;

domino dogs barking along the length

of the alley, one by one dropping word

of some important news; two trains passing

from opposite ends of parallel tracks,

their mournful laments echoing of rain.

Trains always sound like rain,

                                                 and a flurry

of red gathers high in the tall hemlock.

A boy I don't know, walking his black lab,

turns my corner as we feel the first drops.

The kids are home.  The dogs and trains were right.