Scented with Birdsong
In early spring I hung clumps
of unspun wool from tree limbs
By June they are gone, some taken
on the fly, all now braided
into nests to cushion hatchlings
and warm obsidian hours
If only I could fly from tree to tree
pluck words from sturdy branches
and stitch stanzas scented with birdsong
6 thoughts on "Scented with Birdsong"
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Nancy – A lovely poem! I’m sure the birds appreciate the wool. I think your “if only” (other than the flying) has come true since you have achieved the final line!
Thanks, Sylvia!
Love the minimalism and lack of punctuation. Lovely poem.
some confluence of words say just the very thing in the very way it needed to be said–that is what your poem does.
Just gorgeous, Nancy! The sounds and images!
Love this! “Obsidian hours” is particularly nice. And the ending is wonderful.