Cuckoo

Cuckoo

There is comfort in sounds:

the sensation of next door’s washing, spinning; loud and bitter arguments filtering through heating vents;

warning beeps on rubbish trucks backing into culdesacs, wintering summer’s tenements and tin-bin clanking detritus singing communities’ symphonies;

whispers, pianissimo, drifting winds’ secrets shed in rustling papered autumn leaves,

and birds re-chorusing territories,

make hearing a synecdoche for being.

Tacet, unobserved, the cuckoo un-nests eggs, to crack, and conducts the caesura:

flattening air bourn harmonies with its two tone drone;

foreshadowing incantations to spring,

always already an echo;

ringing life and death in hearing’s Being,

now synecdoche for all earth’s living.

In response to Covid 2020-2021 in recognition that all news, good and bad, has been delivered and received in isolation.

No Man is an Island (John Donne)

Cherry Coombe 7 March 2021

Inspired by #GraysonsArtClub

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: