Haydn Between the Leaves

Outside my window

from which I look

every day

a crabapple tree

in the middle of summer

now stripped of fruit

except one or two

here and there

because a squirrel

will jump the branches

causing leaves to fan the air

or send a bird or two flying

I sit back on the sofa

to watch this tree

in sun wind or rain

Its trunk leans

a bit to the north

much as I lean

over the walker

that supports me

The squirrels race

around the trunk

on a freshly mowed lawn

jumping onto it

when cats are around

Some have even sat

at the foot of the trunk

hoping a squirrel

will make a mistake

yet they never do

Who waits for me

to make a mistake

Who would even

notice if I did

and what mistake

might it be

dumping the grounds

into the hopper

without a liner

not starting the dryer

when I need something

to wear that week

Everything simplifies

Messages become the same

year after year

Dust falls on furniture

Garbage needs to go out

It rains or snows

or winds blow

just enough

to knock the rest

of the crab-apples

to the ground

The window gets washed

by the morning rain

Birds leave the grass

in a furious flap

What would Haydn

compose today

to accompany

all this activity

that entertains

an old man who sits

after breakfast

sipping his cooled coffee

Barry G. Wick