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Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Reflex
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

Some intuition of her despair
for her lost brood,
as though a lost fragment of song
torn from her flat breast,
touched me there . . .

I felt, unable to hear
through the bright glass,
the being within her melt
as her unseemly tirade
left a feather or two
adrift on the wind-ruffled air.

Where she will go,
how we all err,
why we all fear
for the lives of our children,
I cannot pretend to know.

Keywords/Tags: mother bird, brood, nest, chicks, fledglings, children, kids, song, despair, protection, protective mother

But, O!,
how the unappeased glare
of omnivorous sun
over crimson-flecked snow
makes me wish you were here.

Keywords/Tags: mother, bird, brood, nest, chicks, fledglings, children, song, despair, protective
Dave Robertson Apr 2020
With fat-winged thrash and clatter
you endeavour to nest build
in the most precarious of places
cat prowled and mown by me
(if a little infrequently)

You’ll have my admiration,
protection
and whatever feed I can find
as I keep in mind
it’s you who show us the
old normal
amidst the new
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Flight
by Michael R. Burch

Eagle, raven, blackbird, crow . . .
What you are I do not know.
Where you go I do not care.
I’m unconcerned whose meal you bear.
But as you mount the sun-splashed sky,
I only wish that I could fly.
I only wish that I could fly.

Robin, hawk or whippoorwill . . .
Should men care if you hunger still?
I do not wish to see your home.
I do not wonder where you roam.
But as you scale the sky's bright stairs,
I only wish that I were there.
I only wish that I were there.

Sparrow, lark or chickadee . . .
Your markings I disdain to see.
Where you fly concerns me not.
I scarcely give your flight a thought.
But as you wheel and arc and dive,
I, too, would feel so much alive.
I, too, would feel so much alive.

I don’t remember exactly when this poem was written. I believe it was around 1974-1975, which would have made me 16 or 17 at the time. I do remember not being happy with the original version of the poem, and I revised it more than once over the years, including recently at age 61! The original poem was influenced by William Cullen Bryant’s “To a Waterfowl.” Keywords: flight, flying, bird, wheel, arc, dive, nest, scale, eagle, raven, blackbird, crow, robin, hawk, whippoorwill,  sparrow, lark, chickadee
effie ebbtide Oct 2019
all mirrors serve a purpose
set me reverse a mean law
all mean men serve a ream list
send me reverse no meme law
all mean ones serve a reed nest
send me reverse no meme law
all mean ones serve a reed nest
poetry instruction:
you will need audio software capable of reversing audio, like audacity.
think of a sentence, phrase, or other series of words.
record this slowly, and reverse the audio.
transcribe what you hear as close to existing words as possible.
record your transcription and reverse that, transcribe again, and repeat as much as you like or until you reach an equilibrium.
Erian Rose Sep 2019
Fields flood high of corn stalks
As we drove along with the country roads
Leaves splattered pathways in a vibrant tint
Electrifying the crisp air around us
Pumpkins grinned softly
Nesting in beds of acorn heads

Fall couldn't be any better
Than watching out the window
And laying my eyes upon the setting sun
While apple cider and spice linger in the ether
Protected in your sweater
Chris Saitta Aug 2019
A pine forest is the hand,
The soul of the palm fans out in fingers
Like the clayey striations of the sun.
The forest has no sound but the bonebreast
Wandering round of a similar hand,
All but shut now except for the unspoiled nest
Of browning needles and the ancient realmless mound of love.
B D Caissie Aug 2019
Dear Robin Redbreast make your nest.
In wait for the mild wind from the west.

Gust ruffled feathers from tail to crest.
Dear Robin Redbreast make your nest.

Soon laying eggs with spotted blue shells.
Then fiercely guarded from whence they dwell.

Dear Robin Redbreast make your nest.
With the colour of spring upon thy vest.
Bhill Aug 2019
Hummingbird, Hummingbird, buzzing around
So dainty and delicate with wings so unwound

How you can do it, with speed and such grace
Hovering and darting with a snappy fast pace

Seeing you land is a rare sight I think
Then I saw why you're frantic and gave you a wink

Your nest was well hidden, by the pine cone on the tree
Your secret is safe and I'll just let you be....

Brian Hill - 2019 #198
You never know what is right in front of you...
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