Summertime (Written June 23)

Summertime

 

The music drowns all other noises,

Including the voices of the people

In the house next door, the crows

 

In the trees, the motorcycles

On Acadie, the lawn mowers

At the bottom of the street,

 

The traffic on Champlain,

Where it slows to meet

The entrance to the mall,

 

The train to Montreal,

The bagpipes from city hall,

And the rustling of the trees

 

In the backyard, swaying

In the gusty, easterly

Wind. Only the jet

 

To┬áSt. John’s rises above

The music, which has yet

To lose its charm.

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