I Love to Write

[b]In childhood[/b]

Where is the madness?
And where are the people?
I hear birds chirping
It is 10:30 on a sunday
In the middle of suberbia Utah

Where are the children screaming
In youthful delight - and where
are their mothers?

I am out here mad as a loon
reading out loud
from a book of poetry
hoping to start something
( a catalyst to insanity? )

Is the sun bored of us?
we insects that scuttle awkwardly
Silent in our minds

Sorry about that : )
Here's the poem

It was in childhood - where
I learned that birds
can sway the tops of trees

That the caterpillar doesn't mean
to tickle your arm as it crawls
On its knees

And the yard dog
Jumps up
Out of love