In the city’s hum, a bubble,
in the dust and grit,
a canopy of green
and the roses in bud again.
In the noise of neighbours’ indiscriminate laughter
and baby crying in the heat,
I thank the god of small things
for the blackbird.
That's how my life have been all these years.Not anymore. Join me on a new journey of Words.
fishy scribbles for fussy nibbles
Tracing a life through stories of death. Sometimes funny, sometimes not.
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Notes on Seeing, Reading & Writing, Living & Loving in The North
The stuff that comes out a bird's mouth.
by Helen Jones
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Perfect. I am listening to the birds…around the sounds of a new backyard deck being built two houses down. Just the suburbs, but noisy enough. 🙂
Any noise when it’s just ‘noise’ is too much. I sympathize.
oh the gratefulness is oozing. beautiful.
Thank you! I’m pleased you like this.
you’re welcome!
🙂
Yes, the sounds of the birds!
I know they’re still making a din where you are. They’ve calmed down here—too hot.
They seem to quiet down a bit at mid-day, but then they start up again full force later in the day. 🙂
The birds can’t compete with the human noise in the evening round here!