A Songbird’s Heart

After the hundredth birdsong sung,

on a morning draped with fog,

a crow landed

on the chimney’s top

and chased all the sparrows to fly

away from home,

like bastards of youth

learning skills to earn their bread,

mustering troops to war,


a drum in March,

when the grass will return

in spring,

and the birds will come

again to lull us into our morning;

evening twilight vocations;

mom and dad swing the hammer,


baby bird lusts over food,



a warmth like a lung, as the

crows circle and wait,

distance is

a culling,

divine and serene,

but night has an evil way of distancing

hearts and numbing heads,

so take up arms

birds of song,

fights crows

until their beaks plunder no more,

and your sweet sounds call Easter

to the front of war,

singing the

praise of change as sweetly

as it has ever been done before

~ by Shawn M. Young on February 9, 2018.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: