the sun has risen
my lady is sleeping
her head on the pillow
like a soft copper cloud
birds singing for the light
their hushed trills and lulls
a whisper of whistles
rabbits gather on the lawn
to furrow through the Charlie
scrapper pushes cart
down the alley
a jangle and clatter
of chaotic rhythms…
the music of dawn
it is finally warm
my windows are open
my orange cat is basking
in the fresh air and sun
my neighbors are outside
the ragged whine of a chainsaw
buzzes the house
with its pulsating groan
intermittently
it is May Day
I skipped the parades
stumbling into a nap
April's sun is streaming-pouring
giving all her warmth
to a planet, teaming with fools
rising to greet her
with the clamor
of birds
Kitty is twitching dreaming
of ornithoids
feathered play
and hollow bones
gravity bends the spring light
softly into a rounded arc
it is cool outside
there is withered fruit on the
apple tree
dark and red and small as cherries
clustered on the greening lawn
Sid Gateaux, Zen Syndicate
Intergalactic, People’s History Project, The Skein of Days, Big Sugar Buddha,
Observation, Reflection, April 1st
