Wednesday, 29 August 2007

Through an Open Window

Summer we open double glazed windows
to let in air, but this means
dirt from the city streets,
traffic noise, drunken chaos
from the bar on the corner, midnight
glass recycling from the same bar,
car alarms and fighting.

But sometimes, someone wanders
past singing Italian arias
and always birds
sing in the gardens.



An Open Window for Poetry Thursday

For another interpretation of the theme, please see my Alter Ego blog.

24 comments:

polona said...

not so much noise where i live.
nice.

Marcia (MeeAugraphie) said...

I love that you brought our focus to the good that would have been missed with closed windows.

CyberCelt said...

Thank you for stopping by Endangered Spaces and commenting. I followed you right back to your blog. I can't help it, I am a do follow blogger!

colleen said...

We have dogs barking and foxes mating and stuff like that out here in the country. And sometimes a bad smell of something decomposing in the woods makes me have to shut the window even on a warm night.

Sue "Sioux" Seibert said...

Is that what Edinburgh is like? I love the poem!

Devil Mood said...

I love the smell of the night in the summer, but yes cities get so polluted and smelly when it's hot.
But let's not forget the birds :)

(I'm sorry about your rabbit, it's so heart-breaking.)

Greenearth said...

A beautiful poem, like that where I live too.

Crafty Green Poet said...

Polona - I sometimes would like to lvie somewhere quieter too.

Marcia - thanks! It is the birds I notice most.

Cybercelt - thanks for visiting back!

Colleen - much though I love the country, there are some smells there i hate too!

Sue - well it basically sums up the noises near where we live, though there isn't much fighting really. The midnight glass recycling is the only thing that's really bad!

Devil Moods - even in the city it sometimes smells good, Edinburgh has improved since some of the breweries shut (now there's a bad smell!)

greenearth - thanks!

joezul said...

Well, the birds and the arias adds to the gaiety of summer...
wonderful city life description :)

Brian said...

Noise is noise, but song is song.

...deb said...

Lovely! The pairing of what is let in is so fine. I can hear it all.

"and always birds"

I was so happy to see how you broke that line.

Rose Dewy Knickers said...

The perils of city life, yet, there is life as well.

Rose

xo

Quietpaths said...

I really like this. Wonderful job.

lisrobbe said...

I live in a quiet neighborhood now but I miss the sounds of a city at times.

tumblewords said...

Ah, yes. It takes a lot of white noise to cover man's movements. I like the way you ended this poem. Nice!

This Girl Remembers said...

Oh, so beautiful! It reminds me of where I live, such a strange juxtaposition of urban grit and residential landscape.

Alan Bender said...

The American Dream just shrunk the hearing aid battery in time.
Long live the Kingbird!

Nice work. I love the u-turn.

odessa said...

i love the contrast of the noise and the song. this reminds me of my neighborhood too. i hear drunken shouts and wailing car alarms all the time. the worst is when random people press my apartment number on the buzzer downstairs in the middle of the night.

Rethabile said...

True, and melodious. Love the last few lines.

KG said...

Your poem so effectively carried me through the awful ruckus to the sweet possibilities of an open window. The Italian aria -- a breath of fresh air! Lovely.

Fledgling Poet said...

A very lovely poem about focusing on the positive, no matter what the circumstances! Thank goodness for the birds (and the arias)...:~)

Jon said...

I was really struck by the aural image of "midnight / glass recycling from the same bar" and I loved the redemptive turn that doesn't attempt to disavow the chaos. Very nice.

Clare said...

Hi Crafty! I really enjoyed the sounds from your window -- I happen to like street noise -- and the Italian arias and birds add such glorious tunes to it. Nice poem!
:)

AnnieElf said...

I love the unvarnished reality of this poem and that you are able to hear through the blare to the beauty that is always hidden.