Flown Birds

Joan Miro masterworksfineart.com

Joan Miro masterworksfineart.com

It is the bird that’s flown
for which I’d build a nest
The bird singing in the tree
I’m quite content to let alone
to wander as she feels free
her constant chatter blest
so familiar she has grown

It is the song that’s stilled
still quickens this old heart
We love best what we grieve
grieve most what we’ve killed
though by taming we believe
we will set wild birds apart
to keep the dream fulfilled

“i’d rather learn from one bird how to sing
than to teach 10,000 stars how not to dance’
~ e.e. cummings


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to Flown Birds

  1. kiwiskan says:

    Yes, it is that song that is stilled…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. philosophy cum ornithology


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