POET

Mobiles
By M. E. Wood

Indigo and salmon tentacles in the wind
Twisting and turning they bend

Crimson tides a flutter
Resting on my gutter

Chimes bursting with song
Mocking birds sing along

Without a thought or notion
Wind mobiles are set in motion

*published in Sol Magazine / April 2002

COMMENTS: Wonderfully original phrasings and delicate descriptions, along with a romping rhythm and cadence just beg for this poem to be read aloud.