under a bridge somewhere

the interstate makes the sidewalk beneath it shake
from large trucks owned by people who never haul things.
how is it the homeless man below does not wake,
and undisturbed, sweet bluebird still constantly sings?
i'm practically perturbed by ruckus ears hear.
still, at least those other aspects remain yet clear:
the silence of a man who has found peaceful rest,,
the sound of nature now exquisitely expressed.