Answering the Call.

Photo by Ben White, Unsplash.

I stepped into an aviary of sound,
it’s trumpet curling in the mid morn air,
calling me to listen, attend the signs
of winters slow eventual decline.

Reluctantly my feet marched to the streets,
where concrete slabs and tarmac overran.
Invading lorries, vans and endless cars
then hurled their heavy thrum into my path.

I raised my eyes to greet the passers by,
their visors down, they blanked my greeting call.
Until one man, a spring within his step,
Obliged my hail and smiled – he’d heard it too.

Linking this to d’Verse Poets where Ingrid is hosting: https://dversepoets.com/2022/02/08/poetics-pounding-the-pentameter/ . As suggested, I did indeed walk while composing and must have looked an interesting sight as I occasionally stopped to count the meters out loud. I had a long walk to an appointment and the result pretty much reflects the experience.