One morning, I stood in the fallow field south of the house <br /> staring straight up. <br /> <br /> My neighbor sauntered over, <br />clicking the wings of a carburetor he was cleaning. <br /> <br /> 'What are you looking at? ' <br /> <br /> 'Skylark, ' I said. <br /> <br /> 'I don't see nothing.' He squinted skyward. <br /> <br /> 'Keep looking.' I pointed <br /> with my whole arm, sighting on my thumb. <br /> <br />The skylark spewed a chaos of buzzes, tweets, and trills <br /> in a long, blue song without a score. <br /> <br /> 'Oh, yeah, I see it. What's it doing? ' <br /> <br /> 'Impressing a female.' <br /> <br />We stood so long a field mouse ran across my boot. <br /> <br />Finally, apropos of nothing, he said, <br /> 'A man would have to be crazy to sing like that.'<br /><br />Eric Paul Shaffer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/apropos-of-nothing/
