Dreaming Suburbs

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Suburbs have a reputation for being drab, dull, and boring; they have neither the countryside’s natural beauty nor the excitement of a large town or city.

Ah, but as with most things in life, even suburbia is as we choose to make it.

Besides one person’s nightmare is another person’s dream just as one person’s concrete jungle is someone else’s home...

DREAMING SUBURBS

Daylight fading at the window, thrushes

singing at will;

thoughts turn the mind slowly

like sails of a windmill;

twilight dips a darker hue

(one thrush soars, another stays

to sling its shadow among

the best geraniums);

melody fading, a flickering of feathers

at the sill...

Though darkness drop its shutters

on all the world’s sleepers,

candles lit for a Quixote surely will

guide a thrush to its nest,

let weary heads rest, having

done their best? (As for dreams,

finders keepers)

Gone now, sweet songbird;

nothing’s heard but sails in the wind

teasing humankind

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in 1st eds. of Love And Human Remains, 2001.]