An Evening Song

A noise free evening

 being a Sunday. I watch

 the lane, emptiness 


The vacuum before me

 triggers a nostalgic feel.

 a communion with infinity 

an interaction hitherto not felt.

Trees stand still

 Leaves keep quiet

 Even the grass stays stiff.

My ears turn inert.

Tuning them I hear  

a palpable sound, silence 

activates rhythmic notations

similar to the song of a brook.

A sweet song permeates

a gentle up, a shallow down

goes the melody, The red ball 

diffuses into an orangish hue.