nature is not concerned with the things we are
The day is hot, the sun is high
Deep blue is pressed against the sky.
A gentle tease of humid breeze
Is rustling through the towering trees
And sending patches of shade and sun
To dance unnoticed on everyone.
High up above the rushing hours
Of punching clocks in concrete towers
And thunderous beats of anxious feet
That press against the city street,
Two blackbirds on a hidden branch
Are gently panting a mating dance.