THE QUIET SOUNDS OF SUMMER/ Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

            THE QUIET SOUNDS OF SUMMER

summer melts into a puddle     like the butter of little black sambo      perhaps heat can be heard 

                  

in the thunder                          of a july afternoon                   a shower threatens

it is the time of the monsoon                yesterday          it sounded just like the game of bowling          

played in the mountains                       by rip van winkle                     and his chums

                       

first a loud kind of hum           just like the ball rolling down the alley/then a loud sharp bang

like the ball hitting the pins                  i have heard                 the farmer can hear his corn

growing the fields                     though i have never heard it myself      but i am sure

just as the butter would melt on the hot pavement        the corn would pop      pop, pop, pop

if left on the sidewalk              ice cream too                         becomes a sticky mess

lying in wait                             for you to step on it                  sticky on your shoe

the little flycatchers                 have hatched in the nest           near the back door

sing their songs             all day long                              their parents catch bugs

for them to eat             yet never have a word to say    perhaps it is because their beaks are full

after the shower           when the day draws to an end              the crickets sing

or play their little instruments               in the shadows             dusk quietly descends

bright stars quietly sparkle        in the summer sky                    the milky way floats overhead

July 8, 2017