Bird-
your wings, are to flap out ofthe bottom of the nest to get
world view and your essence is
to fountain out of a
fistful of feathers, song-notes-
immune to corrosive
years. With conscious mission-
now you pipe
greet day-birth, and now you chirp bid farewell
as day goes in -
spring is sooner recognized by your warble
than by men, and renews
everything,
indicating, winter has to change
hands again .In so doing you
have some sort of satisfaction,
some sort of purpose
being served, You sing
in your aviary jargon, unknown
even to linguist if you
do the same song twice or is it that
no two ones do the same one as
each other !Despite the gust,
and late hours, you keeping
flapping toward home, after playing
at life for a while, arousing in me
the homesickness
but I know
no more where my home is-
all I recall is just its smell.
Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Read 72 times
Written on 2024-09-16 at 02:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
