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Only Singing

Writer's picture: Darkling ThrushesDarkling Thrushes

Updated: Jan 5

When he got to the spot where the road turned,

The berries that grew there swelled with poison,

And the sunlight grew cool on the lake-shore.

He picked up his skateboard purposefully:

Strange singing could be heard from the fence,

Or rather beyond the fence, a weird lure.

Heedless, he passed on, raced to fathers’ house,

To recall the tricks, he’d learned that morning.


__________

Copyright 2023 Jeffrey Merk

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