Light curving and quivering
across the drum tight skin,
it carries the sky with ease,
yet a falling leaf
creates ripples.
the city is for hustlers
everyone wanting to 'get on',
find that better life -
windows open, different tongues.
This silence
has been so long -
fruit flies settling on the pears.
Its a long stretch
from the fence to the washing line-
the spider dancing in the breeze.
The evening is warm
voices across the gardens -
the blackbird too.
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