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A Singing Voice In The Dark
by Richard DavisSomewhere
in the darkness
of this late summer night
I can hear a mockingbird still
rehearsing his litany
of imitations.
They enter
my open window
with the warm wave
of heat on this
hot July night.
I lie and listen
to this strange concert
of birdsong and imagine
him sitting on a high
moonlit branch of
the backyard catalpa tree,
hidden among its heart-shaped leaves,
pouring all of his passion
into his crazy serenade. 10/04/2008 Posted on 10/04/2008
Copyright © 2024 Richard Davis
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Greg Williams on 10/04/08 at 07:27 PM Hey great poem. I enjoy the flow and style of the works of yours that I have read thus far. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/31/10 at 01:00 PM what lovely occurrence to pour through our window and our quill to pen such a fine opus as this ode. |
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