Intramurals
All up and down the quiet street, lights wink
off and on. Windows open and then close:
soft breath of houses. Days flow like ink.
Birds are thrilled. Buds form on our glauca rose.
Quiet reigns in the mostly silent streets.
I read that seismologists note worldwide
how reduced human hum reveals world beats
unheard before we chose to move inside,
agreed seclusion was a social gain,
could flatten curves of infection and death.
At first, we felt relief. Then mounting pain
of separation. And now? We find sweet breath
each morning, find peace within our own walls,
listen to morning wisdom of bird calls.
Leslie Schultz
Dear Beth,
Thank you for sharing today’s poem–that means a lot to me.
Love, Leslie
What a perfect poem for today, Leslie. It’s one that should be read by everyone. Think I’ll forward it to my email list because it captures the struggle and sorrow while also reminding readers to take in the beauty. Just what we all need! Thanks.
I like that phrase so much! Maybe I will use it myself….!
Leslie – What a delight to receive this, a sonnet at sunup, so to speak.
I was amazed to read that fact about seismology today–and to see how it worked into today’s poem.
Always grateful for your insights!
If I had to choose a favorite, either “quiet street, lights wink” or “human hum reveals world beats” or ” morning wisdom of bird calls” , I couldn’t. Like ’em all.