TIME PASSING – a poem by Michael J. Whelan
September 23, 2013 by michaeljwhelan
I’m leaning on a young tree,
early morning sun warming the skin
of my outstretched arm….
I scratch at the dry yellow moss
high up on the bough with my thumb.
There is a faint hum of a bumblebee,
a platoon of ants musters in response
assaulting the damp crater just created
as moss-flakes fall away.
Two magpies do battle in the near distance,
swallows chase each other
above and between the slow rush hour traffic.
The blackbird that usually follows me
is singing his usual song from the chimney
across the road.
I am waiting for a lift to work
and wishing it never comes.
Michael J. Whelan
Published in Tallaght Express 19 September 2013
Photo: Michael J. Whelan