Hemlocked Heart

My neighbor rakes up leaves as the summer burns the spring
The noises reach the bees, fragile, fluttered, frightened things.

Yet the birds call, they still sing out of tombstones, evergreen. 
And my dog sits beside me, quiet, searching and panting.

A silent plane flies overhead. I wonder who's on board and what they've said.
Do they think this valley's barren? Have they eaten lunch, breakfast, dinner?

If they stood in front of me, would they know I've watched them fly?
Countless angels soaring still in the crystal clear blue sky.

The breeze passes by acutely calling my soul back, surrounded by sounds
The dog panting, birds singing, bees fleeing and my neighbor rhythmically raking.