From A Window
Poem By Hugh Cobb
The window presents a view:
various shades of verdancy;
bright yellow green to deepest pines
& a thousand tones in between.
Landscape is softened by grey skies.
Delicate drops leak from clouds
to fall soft tears on new green earth.
Distant trees appear as through
a film of milk or mother of pearl
ground so thin it's transparent...
Two birds fly East towards encroaching dusk.
Seeking dry branches, they dip beneath
low hanging limbs & power lines
never pausing to light & roost.
Instead they fly hurriedly
moving out of sight into
the sheltering depths of an ancient oak
whose lichen covered bark is wintry white
& whose twisting branches are bearded
with spanish moss.
They sense the coming storm long
before the first lightning forks the sky
& thunder rolls through the fields.
Other creatures begin to run for cover
as wind picks up & rain intensifies.
Soon enough storm arrives
rain pelting along with hail
rattling on metal roofs bouncing,
chaotic as nature's cleansing.
All this I see from safe haven,
deep within concrete, brick & steel.
& though winds are spinning, raving,
my fortress walls are not caving
& though convenient light might fail
it too will be restored: grasses will
be greener for the drenching
& air will feel so clean
it is holy to inhale:
it’s taste, a sacrament on the tongue.
(Copyright 11 May 2006)