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The Bird
by Alison McKenzieA bird sings,
Just outside my window,
Sun or clouds.
The same bird.
Every morning.
As if he knows my soul has sunk,
And has stopped to chirp me a rope. 02/03/2014
Author's Note: True Story.
Posted on 02/03/2014
Copyright © 2024 Alison McKenzie
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/04/14 at 12:48 AM Excellent poetic snapshot, Ali. Both serious and lite at the same time. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/04/14 at 11:59 PM A hopeful note (chirp) to cling to. |
| Posted by Steve Michaels on 04/28/14 at 07:44 PM Birds are good for that. Well most of them. If it's a North Carolina Turkey Vulture - might be a rope with an evil purpose. :) |
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