He wanders as far as the line allows
a single starling tweets from above
pretty, uplifting tunes.
So safe and yet, not safe at all from
hungry crows who sit there waiting
silent, on parallel lines.
Ancient life on fire
so beautiful, captured by me
Permitted to grow among the
concrete dead, amidst metal and plastic
where, on warmer days than these
children play so unaware of life
lost in the thrill of their moments.
A sharp tug reminds
He demands attention
pulls me up from the casual swim
of flowing waters into which I sank
I smile at his joys.
Wants and needs so simple
…as indeed, are mine
Aware that fresh made coffee
now in the pot
© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved
I had to ‘Google’ what post modern poetry is. It seems it’s about nothing. Abstract thinking. Surreal. Not making any sense. lol…I hardly ever make any sense… so, here’s my effort.
Shared with dVersePoets Form for all: Postmodern