Spring Songbirds

I have grown old listening to these sounds,

Though only now have I learned to listen.

Once they were my own, in a different key

And cadence but the same tremulous tones

Rising and falling and with no less passion,

 

Songs of seeking and, a few times, of having.

That voice of youth seems almost holy now

It is hushed, even the words no longer lyrical.

Now only their songs, and echoes of my own,

Both filled with more desire than I can bear.





Poetry by countryfog
Read 457 times
Written on 2012-03-03 at 16:19

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I think the songs reflect whatever it is you're feeling at the time you hear them, different at different ages, no less poignant with youth and young love than now, but now there is a sweetness to them that was missing before, an innocence. I almost grieve for them their songs.
2012-03-04


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
I hears next doors parrot through the wall in it's cage ,
Over my roof free parrots fly ,
Gulls also fly make a noise of freedom sercert ,
I hear the call of my naibers cockral ,
All around me is sound of birds
Ken
2012-03-03


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Fine poem, Fog. I know that this isn't what you had in mind, but I, too, hear those songs. Sometimes, I hear and enjoy them outside, but, most of the time, I hear them indoors. I dearly love that raw, hormonal roar of young rock bands.
2012-03-03