|
Alfred Hitchcock writes a letter to the birds
by Linda FullerDear birds (it begins)
I feel I have much maligned you
in characterizing you as
a frightening, destructive force
You are born and die
as do we all
and what you do in between
is between you and whatever god
you believe or don't believe in
The worms you ingest
the nests you construct
of twigs and thread
the silhouettes you make across the sky
your discarded feathers
your songs...
It was all her fault
the blonde
Cherchez la femme
I loved all my blondes
and they loved me
Don't believe what you read
in those unauthorized biographies
But I digress
She brought it upon herself
as they do
Their loveliness calls out
to be destroyed
to be made ugly
It's the way of things
and you, the birds
were mere instruments
of my direction 09/12/2023 Posted on 09/12/2023
Copyright © 2024 Linda Fuller
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/13/23 at 05:44 AM I love poems about birds, especially crows. Alfred Hitchcock's movie is a classic, and your poem has done it justice. Kudos Linda! |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 09/24/23 at 09:13 AM This a great poem, Linda. One of the best, if not the best I’ve read of yours. Significant and magnificent. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/14/23 at 03:26 AM Nice and creepy at the end, as a Hitchcock moment should be. "It was all her fault
the blonde" - this is the turn in the poem that hooks me and compels me to the end. Well done. |
|
