New Life...

My cousin, to whom I'm very close, brought her second baby into the world yesterday. With that occasion in mind I started this poem, of which I've only just begun.

As the sun rises on the chilly morn,
And the cars all line the streets.
The passengers with their coffee cups,
Bump to the urban beat.

The men in orange work the roads,
And Toil in the dirt.
As a lady passes through a crosswalk,
In a short black hounds tooth skirt.

We putter here and sometimes there,
The truth far from our sight.
A crying baby brings me pause,
And the cars fade in to night.

Professors utter empty words,
Unbecoming of a princess.
The street preachers mumble in the street,
Making far too much of less.

The sun sits high upon its breast,
The rocks warm to the front.
I sit in the shadow,
And the crickets whimper for want.

We putter here and sometimes there,
The truth far from our sight.
A crying baby brings me pause,
And the crickets fade from sight.