I need to hear the birdsong,
the distant hoot owl call,
and nothing else,
I like a little drip drop
from cloudy skies,
a notion I might
bake brownies,
I like a notion,
I like the word.
It sounds gentle,
like two people
on a porch swing
talking about last night’s storm
when one gets “a notion to…”
do something
with that creaky porch door,
and then they sit and swing,
back and forth,
back and forth
all day long, as if no words
had passed between them.
Peaceful imnage found here
