Lying down on a Saturday afternoon
Distant singing wafts into the open window
On the tail of a wasp looking for a new home
Alongside the broken-record calling of African doves
And chirping song of winged others
From the trees beneath which children giggle.
There is also the far off horn of a truck honking
Someone riding by on a bicycle or walking by on foot
And the memory of last night's rain on the roof
Which dropped two inches in an hour and carried me
Off to sleep.
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