Daydreams

Children’s shouts and singsong yells
propels the summer fun along.

Where one woodpecker injects —
a sparrows twill invites delight. 

The sky is high. The sun is bright,
but clever owls don’t fly till night. 

A blackbird rasps and clasps a worm
which squirms and squeals a silent scream. 

A daydream — seems so real — precise. . .
the drum of something like a drone
disturbs the words that sought and caught
and taught a peace lie piece less in a pile
un-thought.