Robert Thomas

No singing birds delight the senses here,
But varied wafting noises fill the air,
And engines, droning engines always near,
Machines in dusty workshops even blare.

No lush, well-tended grassy lawns of course,
But houses standing thickly by the curb,
Untidy avenues display perforce
Facades of storied commerce – fortune’s blurb.

Yet in these motley thoroughfares I deign
To sample richly roughly textured life,
To hear and watch and know without disdain
The vibrant modes and even gentle strife.

In such a place I live, perhaps I’ll thrive:
There’s more to living than to just survive.

Autumn Sky Poetry, Oct. 18/24