This first poem took awhile to polish, hence the reference to February, which was when this party took place. The effects of the sound in this very rural bit of Arizona were unusually vivid.
The Sound in the Darkness
Off in the darkness
The sound of it drifts
In the thin darkness
Of a warm February night;
The darkness
Quivers faintly and listens
Like a dog with a far-off scent;
The darkness
Sits up on its haunches
And listens to the sounds
As the rattle of percussion
Seeps into this corner of night.
From somewhere down the road
The drums rattle and pulse and shift
And bring a shimmer of sound
Through the darkness.
Somewhere down the road
A too-bright light
Makes dancers invisible
Despite the darkness,
But along the road
The air only carries the sound of drums
And then faintly the enthusiasms
Of accordion and guitar
While the drums shift their beat
And the light beams down
On people unheard
Along the road.
A song quavers
In the thin darkness;
The words lose their shape
As they fly along the road,
But the spirit flies in the sound,
And the darkness
Quivers again and listens
More intently than ever.
Above the road
The waning moon is long past her zenith;
She yawns wearily
At a party she cannot attend,
And she drifts away
Into the darkness,
While a muddled rooster,
Kept awake by the noise,
Crows loudly in his confusion,
But the crow fades into a whimper;
And along the road
The drumbeats change again
In the darkness.
Viva the drums,
Viva the borderlands,
Viva the darkness that listens.
More recently, storm systems from the Pacific have spent a little time over the mountains and the valley here, shifting and bringing quite a variety of weather patterns in a matter of hours before blowing off to the east.
Storm Season
Back and forth, back and forth,
Over and over us,
West to east, south to north,
Warm wind and cold for us,
Flash and flame, thunder’s claim,
Dragon fire leaping,
Quiet drops, each the same,
Gray dove stays weeping.
This haiku describes more of such weather.
storm clouds blow
the moon blinks in and out
goodbye, hello!
And finally, some Lesser Goldfinches have been migrating through. For readers familiar with the better-known American Goldfinch, these little birds are not yellow along the back, but rather black-capped (in this region) and gray-green on the back. Their brilliant yellow is seen most distinctly when they fly.
Welcome, tiny friend–
small, slender, a wisp of gold
when your wings take you
I love that muddled rooster. PS Did you get the loot?
Such richness! Changing weather, finches gold in flight, and a party down the road (the road, the road...!).