Nightbirde
she calls herself
sylph in a black t-shirt,
singing that it’s okay, then saying
“You can’t wait until
life isn’t hard anymore
before you decide to be happy.”
And she’s right, that two percent
isn’t zero
as I sob around my pasta. Every season,
it’s something. Someone.
After a yearfull
of so much sadness
I really need this one to stick.
2 thoughts on "Nightbirde"
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“sylph” is a word I didn’t know .. wandered off to find out and wandered back to re-read your poem again. It was a lovely journey from here to there and back again. (The use the S in your poem gave is a musical singsong quality)
Kevin
Aww, thank you!
I have a habit of using words that ‘feel’ right in the moment & to my word-flow, whether they’re exactly correct definition-wise or not (this was a poem born in about ten minutes total). “sylph” presented itself in my brain and I went with it. *shrugs*