syncopation/ 38/Soul love saga

inconsistently yours

this syncopation of sounds

from the drops falling from the melting ice

steal my face reminders of the summer

that has yet to begun

water falling rushing sounds

clanking coffee cups

of Lady killigrew

give way to mid afternoon caffeine buz

cradled in my arms are the tapping of the keys

and the sunshine spilling on the exposed skin

left over leaves from last years trees

tapping against the bark

As the sap drip on irrevocably into the maple cans

waiting their sensationally sweet juices

syrup and resin resigning to their last moments

of stillness that only a tree vibrating with earthen

energies can give

sounds of people walking to book mill

over the well sanded ground

disturb me from my poems as they wish they could

share the only bench here

in this pre spring

syncopation of a sound landscape

in the eclectic heart of a place you can’t find

while bad self portraits plays on the radio


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