*
before is the bird’s
song and the occasional
car passing by
then the refrigerator
freezing while shaking
the hot water boiler
or an airplane
far away the mailman
comes dropping
volumes of papers
we need to lift glance
at a minute then dispose
that’s how days roll
away how solitude
serves me well
.
.
.
This poem is from the California Notebook collection, available in paper book and digital format.
Nicely penned, Anna. Where/how have you been?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Jay Bleu, hope you are well. Remote “smart” work is killing me, can’t stand it anymore. My brain is mush and I forget to post my poems on Tuesdays… How about you?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m OK, too! I’m starting to lose all my motivation just sitting at home so much!!!
LikeLike
Ahahaha 😂😭, let’s call upon patience and resilience then!
LikeLiked by 1 person
haha, yes! Stay strong!
LikeLike
Love this piece, especially how you include common sounds like the hum of the fridge to bring that final zing to solitude.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, you got it! Thank you for commenting and letting me know your impressions.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love it
The poem is amazing, what is the secret
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very nice flow, I like read this!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Sumita! Happy you like it, it was written a few years ago, in the desert of southern California, when you couldn’t leave the house because of the heat but it’s so pertinent to this time… I think
LikeLiked by 1 person
It surely is.😊👍
LikeLiked by 1 person
I tend to agree! I have also said that I could get used to this!
LikeLiked by 1 person