By Steve Van Nattan


I sit on my glider on the porch,
As the gray dawn beckons me;
I couldn't sleep, so I came out here,
To drink a cup of tea.

Way up high the noble clouds,
Catch the sun's bold rally;
While sneaking in all sullen and low,
The dark mist covers the valley.

The birds all wake and speak a word,
And the mocking bird doth repeat;
Each statement as if it were his own,
Every chirp, and rattle, and peep.

The doves are mourning by Charlotte's house,
And say the air is "too cool."
The crows still sleep 'til the sun heats the air,
Which they use for a stepping stool.

Now, what is this roar which shatters the peace?
'Tis my neighbor's SUV;
After toast and coffee, off he flies,
To earn his tax and his tea.

Look, here comes our hummer for his breakfast sip,
His adversary can't get any;
Then off he hums but soon returns,
To stab the intruder's fanny.

A gnat hovers just in front of my nose,
A spider hangs by a thread;
Hoping the breeze will carry him,
To a rafter above my head.

The sky is now blue, the clouds are white,
The sun is just out of sight;
The fog in terror reversed it's path,
In fear of the heat and the light.

The black birds are grousing, the Interstate hums,
And the city moans in the distance;
They tell me to join the rat race or starve,
And justify my existence.

So, as the sun casts splatters of light,
Across my neighbor's lawn;
I vacate my glider, but I'll be around,
Watching the sky as the sun goes down,
Wrapping itself in its evening gown,
When the day has come and gone.


© Copyrighted by Steve Van Nattan 2004

Photo by Mary Van Nattan © 2004

graphics and background by Mary Stephens
updated 2019