Verses of Birds, Bevies of Words

Nightfall, Another November

Remember when you’d open
the window to your soul
and toss aside those curtains
you hide behind?
You were searching out
that beat of wings,
those verses of birds,
those bevies of words,
that would glide and perch
on the branches woven
into a nest of stories
that just ended, but
never finished?

Sometimes do you still
sense a rustle, a whistle,
and peek outside,
only to find a handful
of oak feathers imitating
those things you once loved?
It’s autumn now, the leaves
nearly all fallen, the birds
flown to other windows.
Empty winds and
meaningless clatter remain
of the songs that once flew
and sang themselves for you.
They’re only finished, though,
not yet ended.


3 thoughts on “Verses of Birds, Bevies of Words

  1. I’m chuckling, Joseph. I loved the first verse – the second left me angry, until I read it a third time. Yes, I get it. I understand. I have lost so much that was once important to me, but it just doesn’t matter. 🙂 Life is very well designed if we can accept it as such.

  2. Nicely put, and true enough, Joe. I force myself to look at it this way: perhaps the easiest verses have been written. Now, the stanzas may be fewer, but we hope the ones that do come resonate in ways that wouldn’t have been possible in our earlier personal beta versions.

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