Birds are the thoughts of <br />Trees in the evening, <br />Perched in their minds. <br /> <br />I go down to the Arches <br />And see the river in full spate <br />With salmon leaping, defying gravity. <br /> <br />The fields are dark <br />And the factory lights <br />Twinkle beyond. <br /> <br />The traffic whispers on the by-pass <br />And the rain creates <br />Old ladies' faces, <br />Wrinkles in a pond.<br /><br />John Thorkild Ellison<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nocturne-14/
