The refrigerator purrs
and in the valley
a leaf blower announces
someone’s worry about their lawn
A backyard breeze
improvises a melody
with the chimes
hanging from the eaves
Winged seeds
spin from their anchors
in the presiding trees,
a first and final flight
that strands them
on the driveway
Late summer harbinger
of what comes next,
the newly unfurled
plumes of pampas grass
bend silver in the sun
still warm
Sad anthems close the day
with melodramatic
clouds, and twilight
hushes what we thought
important
The voice beneath the silence
isn’t yours or mine:
it speaks without syllables
or pictures in the mind.
Leroy Perkins
Note: from Leroy, ‘I wrote this with the intention to use as lyrics for a yet to be composed choral work.’
