City Rhapsody
The relative quiet
comes accompanied by
wind chimes
whenever a strong enough breeze
flaps a page
on my makeshift
desk in the yard.
The old hammock
hardly used any more
sways
over the brown patch
of periwinkle.
All winter, the trees,
garden, table and lawn chairs,
hammock, and clotheslines
weathered alone,
though I occasionally
watched
out of the window, wondering
how it would be
to be outdoors again,
in the breeze, sunlight, and slight
rumblings
of the town
shifting
through workday gears
and back
to the peaceful
night glide.
Joseph Somoza
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