By Deborah A. Dickinson-Deacon
Western New York Branch
Wide open kitchen window reveals:
Westerly winds that whisper warmly.
Dove coos in calming clarity.
Cardinal and robin each perform solos.
Crows caw in call-and-response cacophony.
Church bells chime on the hour.
Silent scampering of squirrels and rabbits,
barking dogs break that silence.
Children call out to each other,
uncharacteristically six feet apart.
Re-construction of pot-holed suburban roads
vibrates the air accompanied by rhythmic beeps
indicating backward movement.
Lawn mowers pushed by all people
at a pre-choreographed pace.
“Weed whackers” whiz and buzz in musical measures.
All is carefully conducted by an unseen Higher Power,
awesomely appreciated by this audience of one,
who, until mid-March, worked on an 18th floor
where windows do not open.
I need my open window.