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To Keep the Rhythm
A playful wind ruffles the leaves; a tambourine to keep the rhythm.
A bee floats lazy, unaware
Of the children cowering in its wake.
A red popsicle drips onto unshorn grass;
Its sweet sticky flavor carried off by soldiers
Marching steady and true through forests of green.
Charcoal smoke flavors the sunset;
And rises up to look down on the world.
Tepid night tiptoes towards us;
But while the sun still glows on high,
We will stay one more moment,
And live one more night.
As the moon rises stout and glowing tonight,
Its ivory beams will creep onto windowsills,
Perhaps brush a sleeping babe’s cheek.
And elder trees, cloaked in balmy midnight
Will feel their leaves ruffled by a playful breeze;
A tambourine to keep the rhythm.