Harmonies
We don’t listen to the music no more:
the small sounds of the wind as it whispers
through grass, or the well-deep silence of stars.
People take it as hard, to see the flare
of fire warming the glass in a morning.
A new day shouldn’t be too hard to bear.
But it is, what with all the craaawling
From pay-cheque-to-pay-cheque-to-pay-cheque-to
grave. An it is grave; there ain’t no hearing
of birdsong, nor the storms rippling laughter
that overflows and runs in blue waves down
the roof and windows. We miss the patter
and clatter of life bursting all around.
We don’t notice, we don’t see and we don’t
take part. We are shut out from the green ground
of Eden. We have become discordant.
Nathan Lenthall is 25 and currently finishing off his last semester at university. He has had poetry published in Pastiche Magazine, Tellus Magazine and Turbulence Magazine. Once free of university he intends to spend his summer reading, training for a marathon and working on his writing.