August 10th, 2008
Sleepy Bird
Tread softly, heel-toe. Speak not one word.
Grass glistens among furrowed headstones.
Listen: thoughts drift. Sleep gently, my bird.
Lines deeply etched – my attention spurred.
“To Heaven She Went.” “To God His Thoughts Known.”
Tread softly, heel-toe. Speak not one word.
Lush leafy oaks, those shady plots preferred
and a single bird’s nest: her home, her own.
Listen: thoughts drift. Sleep gently, my bird.
Solemnity respected. Overheard:
“Why did he have to die?”, she knelt and moaned.
Tread softly, heel-toe. Speak not one word.
Come here: a sea of white stones blurred by
“Known Only to God”! Someone misses his bones?
Listen: thoughts drift. Sleep gently, my bird.
It matters not which – first, second or third:
look at any tree. Why hasn’t she flown?
Tread softly, heel-toe. Speak not one word.
Listen: thoughts drift. Sleep gently, my bird.
(this was a poem written for my recently-completed poetry class at NCSU.)
Nice work, my friend!
Cheers,
-S.
This was my favorite of yours. Hauntingly beautiful.
Sherry