Dropped by an Angel

The low flying plane
Sounds like a bumble bee.
(Flowers are laughing)

My lonely red chair
Sitting empty for a year
Enjoys no tushies.

 

The bobbing robin
Lets go of the small tree branch
And flies to the sky.

On this sky blue day
A passing whiff of lilacs
And incessant bugs.

What do they desire
These million tiny insects
Plaguing my eyes?

The drop of water
Hanging from the slender branch
Does not know the sun.

Three people, two dogs
Disappear around the bend;
Murmur of voices.

Why do the shadows
Lift up the sunshine from road
And dapple it back?

Floating on the road
Feather, fine and indistinct
Dropped by an angel.