Windows Jimmied

Bucolic it isn’t.
A clanking wind chime sways.
Trees rustle
in their cassocks of leaves.
Mobbing a squirrel,
a murmuration of starlings
noisily dive-bombs.
A plane has passed, but not
the trailing sound.
Children on a trampoline
no longer need
to use their indoor voices.
Dandelions sprout
in a lawn mower’s wake.
When the scene
does hold its breath and
tries to pose for
a still life, someone with
allergies sneezes.
Today, scents vociferate.
Windows jimmied,
a cacophonous exclamation
introduces Spring.


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