LISTENIN^G 



These are the sounds I listen for: 

 The lift of the gray dawn. 



It rises up inaudibly 



Like breath of wind, newborn. 



The rush of speeding clouds that race 



Elate above the gale. 

 They spread their sheet rebelhously 



With smack of unfurled sail. 



The liquid notes that sunshine spills 

 On sheltered roofs and walls. 



It spatters down as merrily 

 As spray from waterfalls. 



The quivering of noonday glare 



Upon the stubborn hiU. 

 It chips off light relentlessly 



As though with workman's drill. 



[35] 



