This morning I sit
on the edge of the bed.
The calm black lab Lucy
asleep beside me,
dregs of my first
cup of coffee
on the bedside table
among containers
of lotion, lip balm,
melatonin
and out the window,
sounds:
The hospital a block away
groans with grinding machinery.
What are they burning now
or cleaning? How much longer?
It’s already been
forever…
But that’s not
what I want
you to hear.
Focus
on the tree
in the backyard, taller
than the house.
It’s spring and the tree’s
all dressed up
in new leaves,
so we can’t see the birds
in there among the branches.
Though we can hear their chirps resound
between us and the incessant, mechanical roar—
like strokes of color
on gray canvas full
of clouds.
Let’s get up
continue the day,
blending our way
among these sounds.
~ Ramona Vreeland McCallum
Ramona Vreeland McCallum is the author of a collection of poetry entitled Still Life with Dirty Dishes (Woodley Press, 2013). She earned her MFA from UMKC in 2017 and her Master of Arts in Teaching from KSU in 2018. She lives in Garden City, Kansas where she teaches 5th grade English Language Arts and co-parents six children with her husband, Brian McCallum. For June’s poems, Ramona selected work whose avian and weather imagery convey metaphoric and dichotomous themes of restlessness & peace, anxiety & security, and which communicate the power of presence when reflecting on the past and looking toward the future.
The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative 
Beautiful poem and I especially like the last stanza!