November 7, 2019Poem
What is there for me
lossgriefnaturecitymusicpolitics
What is there for me
To influence
When so much of life
Exists independently
Of my domain
White Butterflies swarm
For just one day
Filling the air
Catching the light
Fluttering as individual
As snowflakes
Densely falling
Kissing the ground
Without melting
Before lifting
As the mood takes them
How did they know
To make it this day
What were the triggers
To remind them
Which one decided to move first
Across the street
The builders
Have a job to do
Their industry apparent
In the sound of steel on steel
Airguns shooting nails
Into soft wood
A band practises
Uptown funk in the park
Vying with nature
For ascendancy
There is so much music
Even the birds join in
Much of life
Is a river
A constancy of incoherence
A chorus of background
Often left to pass
Unnoticed
Unless I
A builder be.