On my balcony chair, I just listen

as walking words pass by.

Many are the lazy likes-

impatient, abbreviated, unsure,

wanting to like and be liked,

strolling in conversations

parroting and parenting likes.

Uncaring words, the fucks, pass by too-

all but few dressed in tight conformity

while wishing to run free…

Rebel words declare their own identity

fashioned in darkening dialects

of current rebel fashions,

another learned conformity,

parroting and parenting their words too.

The air is filled with sounds-

working machines, sirens of warnings,

masked words, languages evolving…

I listen, then tune out the words

to hear the wondrous songs of birds.

April 14, 2021- Shelley Wilson