Sunday Afternoon

The long hours
of the afternoon
slither like a slow worm
through warm grass.

From the garden
we hear the sounds of life
that surround us,
reminders that we are not alone.

The distant traffic
forms the back-beat
of our daily soundtrack,
but the overlays today include
a parrot that imitates a mobile phone
and a number of dogs barking.

{To clarify – the barking is real today,
but the parrot can imitate the dogs and,
most amusingly, their owner shouting!}

And the afternoon light
is ever-changing,
catching the apple blossom
and bluebells in flashes
of extravagance,
and then sneaking away
as would a playful child
when the dark clouds
trundle overhead like a
moody teacher.

This has been
my Sunday afternoon.
I hope yours
was nice too.

{Poet’s Note – a more contemplative poem for Day 27 of National Poetry Writing Month.}

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