An Eerie Tune

by June 21, 2024 1 comment

An eccentric old chap,
arms akimbo, long legs swinging,
staring at the flaming sun
obscured by the grey-tinted mist,
the delicious coolness of the winter breeze
enough of a reason to step out.
Painting the thin crisp air with tendrils
of the rings of cigar smoke,
he jounces on the saddle of his bicycle,
the tintinnabulation at every sharp turn,
the mechanical tornado of the spinning wheels,
a testimony to his bizarre life,
overwhelmed with the avalanche
of uncanny appearances
of the jumpy and nimble-footed spotted-deer
and the clever little mongoose,
at his glimmering-square-dank backyard,
with its weathered-timber and tree stumps,
adorned with a tangle of orchids and bluebells,
and the shying away touch-me-nots.
The light-yellow pools of
shiny, glistening, evening sun beams
descend the rungs of the stile,
and drench him and his wild-friends.
A chirpy-stream cutting across the cane-field,
welcomes him to take a sip,
where he guilelessly plays with
his salt-and-pepper stubble and
slips out of his grey woollen rug and,
petting a doe, takes refuge
in the caresses of the gentle breeze carrying
the susurration of the verdant grass.
He sprawls his heavy weary limbs that
went about riding, circling the serpentine ways,
steering the helm in the rustic countryside,
to witness the faint amber traces of the fading sun
sinking into eternity and
the twilight moon perched right above his head,
watching him watch it in earnest.
And there he harrumphs and attempts
to hum an eerie tune that
in the darkness of the lonely night
is his alone.

– Soumya Doralli

editors note:

To what tune do you watch the moon watch you? – mh clay

Comments 1

  1. Marie Higgins

    What a beautiful poem! It reminds me why I love to read poetry just as much as going on vacation. There’s learning in both…. such as what lives in the backyards of others. So interesting!

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