Birdie

Birdie, how do you fall? A pigeon's down

of city street blues

and the coast is a smear of wildness

and i am perishable, open to rain, dissolvable

somewhere I dream to ponder of the things

that could be if this or that were indeed. . .

Live! and put bee's wax in your ear.

For the sirens are singing!

what Spring has taken thee

from the coiled nest 

where all that is holy and new

wait -- the nestlings so gathered

gape for mother and beckon

to an old song: echoing

in the frost of an eerie dawn

Reviews

[Emily B]

this is a perfect blend of the old romantic eloquence and modern freeing verse

a new favorite