Lying On The Deck In My Sister’s Backyard

Ah

the aria

of any singing pajaro!

    moving—

without thought

from refrain to refrain

    —enriching

without thought

of remuneration,

    singing for Science-still-knows-not-what

and pausing

sometimes— a measured rest

 … space

for the complex

    inflections

to echo

   in the distance

and be echoed

in sentiment by others:

life

as it should be praised—

     a skilled, continuing jazz,

dipping

and soaring

  towards white bars

on a blue sheet of sky

  and a bright clef of sun,

      before it alights

to renew its chirping,

flight of music 

What a fearful, unthrifty quiet

I have made of the few short measures given to me

by: L. Raymond Andrews