the loveliest second
one second it was but the sound of the tock
without voices within or a whirring machine
or autos to plow the contiguous street
nor did the windswept tree take a chance
(but silently cast its silhouette dance)
one second more it'll come if i wait
for the train-blare of warning or cat whine for feed
another will come once school buses empty
traffic will slow as the children lie sleeping
devices go hushed and the mister tries dreaming
then the tock i will hear filling rooms as it may:
the loveliest second of noise in my day
one second it was but the sound of the tock
without voices within or a whirring machine
or autos to plow the contiguous street
nor did the windswept tree take a chance
(but silently cast its silhouette dance)
one second more it'll come if i wait
for the train-blare of warning or cat whine for feed
another will come once school buses empty
traffic will slow as the children lie sleeping
devices go hushed and the mister tries dreaming
then the tock i will hear filling rooms as it may:
the loveliest second of noise in my day
Kenn left the house today with the littlest while the others were at school. For just a moment, things were still, in the house and out. Hearing the ticking of the clock seems a rarity in the middle of my days, so I celebrated with a poem.
It wasn't intended, but I haven't posted here in ten months. I have no intentions of publishing more/less hereafter. Goals like those can be helpful, but at times they just impede. I do have a new website I'm working on, slowly. If it ever goes public, I may not post here again.
There's something lovely in that, too.
