Velocity, April 1o, 2o15

A Facebook friend (Helema) posted a poem based on the poetic style of Maya Angelou. Her poem moved me enough to write a little something inspired by her writing:

Velocity

 

I wonder why the sparrows weep

so early in the morning?
I suppose like me they just can't sleep
and use the darkness to complain,
to shout, to cry away their worry.

 

The white moon listens with a deaf ear,

stars are far more comforting.
Listless whispers float across the ceiling,
putting off the crawl into a dream,
instead of shrugging off this consciousness.

 

Twin black labs wrestle in the shadows;

an amber street light argues with the lawn.
My crow-feathered spirit stands alone,
a barn owl drifting somewhere high above it all.
I envy his detachment.

 

And sometimes in times like these
I pray for freight trains barreling through

the dark blue night, wheels screeching
grinding night into dawn. Iron sturdy gods
they be, enslaved to blind addiction for velocity.
Woodie o4-1o-15