Hard work can make my mind go blank —
a pleasant wordlessness
of well-used muscles,
the satisfying glow of tasks completed.
I took my emptiness
out to the counsel of the cloudy sky
where trees, assembled,
marked their soft assent
to what the night would bring
The sound sphere was inhabited
by freeway’s roars and passing planes,
gravel turning under wheels of cars,
the parting barking of dogs
before they went indoors,
the final squawk of random birds,
and the quiet chink of wind chimes near the house.
All’s well.
The night will come
and we will sleep
while trees stand guard,
and in my dreams
or in the early light of morning
may come my words’ return.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 1, 2013