drone
near the end
you chose the monotone
you had your fill
of chord progressions
bouncing like billie
or children playing in the grass
chasing soap bubbles
until they burst
all you wanted
was a steady drone
a placid ostinato
oscillating in the background
like hummingbird wings
or a rothko canvas
consuming your vision
with one fundamental color
This poem appears in the collection Inner Planets: 50 Poems by Matthew Howard. Available in paperback, Kindle, and audiobook.
Mars Will Send No More 