Ten Minutes To Eleven

At ten minutes to eleven

It is still not still

 

A mosquito worries its way across the screen door

Looking for a gap

As my exhalations send it into blood frenzy

 

A leaf drifts to earth

Odd, since it’s early summer yet

I wonder if a caterpillar has eaten it through

 

A child tugs at her father impatiently

He’s talking to a neighbour at the end of the driveway

Postponing some outing

Now her singsong Daddy, Daddy

Increases in volume and frustration

 

Six birds trade places on two trees

 

At ten minutes to eleven

It is still not still

 

A rumour of a breeze

Stirs branches randomly

 

A seaplane flies overhead

Its pilot intent on the descent the plane is poised to make

A passenger looks out the bubble window

Wondering at the mundane lives playing out below

 

While the rooster next door proclaims his sovereignty

Reassuring his hens

Ruling his dominion

 

Insects cry

 

I hear traffic humming in the distance

 

At ten minutes to eleven

It is still not still

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

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