MORNING NOISE
~Jackson Pollock, 2019
Oil on cardboard
You can hear them, can’t you? Bursts of red and
white and gray—those pickups early on the
road, and the big silver milk truck, there, clear
streak across. The woodchip truck that always
uses jake brakes going down the hill—long
black jag. And underneath and around—back-
ground and more than background—a kind of fore-
ground really—are the birds. Can you hear them?
Sure you can. Rose-breasted grosbeak, redstart,
red-eyed vireo, white-throated sparrow,
goldfinch, red-bellied woodpecker, blue jay,
and clearest, that woodthrush just out of sight.
Thank you Mary, your poem made my early afternoon make more sense! * *! * Beautiful dear. Love to you I send