Sunday, May 20, 2012

Bird Song / George J. Dance

Bird Song 

 I do not thrive; I only speak,
 so softly, about whining things.
 In my mind, the dead bird sings
 and all things lost pass from its beak.
        - Karen Tellefson, 2007

 “And all things lost pass from its beak”
(in song, I hope – if real, a mess
would be on table, floor, and dress,
to clean up which might take a week) –
a friendly tune when one feels weak.

Though to that song mine can't compare,
a singing bird in bush or air
is worth four dead ones in the mind.
Let’s take a walk outside to find
the joy of birdsong, everywhere.

George J. Dance, 2007
from Doggerel, and other doggerel, 2015

[All rights reserved by the author - Used with permission]

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