HUBBUB

                    The busyness of day is well begun

                    As I sit down to write at nearly nine:

                    Leaf blowers roar while hammering is done

                    On the new house three doors away; the whine

                    Of a low Cessna overhead adds yet

                    Another load of nuisance decibels,

                    And now my dog is clamoring to get

                    Outside to pee while all the hubbub swells,

                     But, ah! a sudden cease in this uproar
                      Descends and, for a blissful moment, peace

                     Prevails—though that surcease is soon cut short

                     And from this ruckus there is no release:

                          Yet in an hour this sonnet has arrived,

                           But not the sort that ever has survived.

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