Summertime (Written June 23)



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.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>