The band of nested birds cried,
their eyes shouting within
the cold distance of their hearts.
The green blanket of leaves
couldn’t hide their misery.
And their songs went away.
In the shadows of that great wood lurked the
flavor of something powerfully bold.
That a love could last but one moment
and use all the rest to torment my soul.
The hawk came, and the songs went away.
I left my heart perched in the elm that day,
next to that great hawk who had come to prey.
He didn’t stab my life with talons
or swallow my flesh whole with life’s blood.
Instead he stole my song away
and left me for another day
with no one.
This poem was inspired by a patch of woods behind my home, which is usually bustling with life. Turkeys, deer, even coyotes which I was surprised to find in northern Kentucky. But the trees and our feeders are always alive with so many different species of birds, their songs absolutely and gently carry the days here. One day I stepped outside and noticed the feeders were vacant. The only noise at all was a simple breeze rustling through the trees, which was odd. But odder still was the rabbit not 20 feet away from me, just sitting there absolutely stiff as if frozen. That never happens. I took a few steps toward him and he still refused to run away. And it all struck me: one of our two visiting hawks must be in the area. And there he was, I spotted him perched up in the tallest tree there on the edge of the woods, staring down at me. You could have heard a pin drop out there…. I realized my presence was probably giving that little rabbit a heart attack. Coming to the conclusion that the hawk had not yet seen him (their acute vision relying on movement sometimes) I thought it best that I return to the house. -Wherein I immediatley crafted new rules regarding the safekeeping of our little chichuahua, Gizzy, who enjoys the freedom he finds at every possible opportunity to rush outside without a leash…. Maybe that’s what Mr. Hawk was waiting for, perhaps he was in the mood for a little Mexican dinner that night! 🙂 Oh, and of course there’s the whole “Woe is me, I’ve lost my lover” thing in there too, but that comes from muscle memory, my hand just used to writing about it….. I hope you enjoyed my poem, thanks for visiting….
September 19th, 2011 at 1:54 am
Haunting and wonderful at the same time. Haunting, the story line. Wonderful ,how you crafted your words to feel the way I did after I read this. Just beautiful!
September 19th, 2011 at 3:50 am
You win some you lose some, is it true? In most cases yes! Great write!
Hank
September 19th, 2011 at 5:25 am
No one is ever going to steal my song…though many have tried. Keep singing in spite of everything! Thank you for your comment
September 19th, 2011 at 7:24 am
What a powerful poem!
I dropped by to thank you for your fun contribution to last week’s Limerick-Off. I hope you’ll be a regular participant! (I post a new Limerick-Off every Sunday/Monday.)
Thanks!
September 19th, 2011 at 4:26 pm
Very poignant and so strongly speaks the truth.
Please change your “about” text from “I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life” to “I am a Poet and adorer of life.”
September 19th, 2011 at 5:19 pm
whew this was pretty intense and haunting writing john
September 19th, 2011 at 10:47 pm
dude…this is sad….when the predators come to take the music away….or take away our freedom to sing and enjoy life…makes a great metaphor for much…butdo keep the chihuahua safe….
September 20th, 2011 at 1:45 am
Very sad. I love the heart perched in Elm, and the rhyme and lost song refrain.
But your description is also lovely, a very interesting addendum.
That said, watch out for your dog! I had a chihuahua once, a much maligned breed.
September 20th, 2011 at 2:08 am
This is a wonderful poem and the last stanza is the strongest of all. The images there are so concrete and visible I can see and feel the piece!
Namaste…………cj
September 21st, 2011 at 1:16 am
Little birdlings in their nest do go quiet when something (usually a predator) nears. It is interesting how instead of straightforward (and violent) snatching away of what’s in the nest itself, its merely the song that is taken. And that is quite an effect in itself since the main thing about birds is song. This is very original imho. Very ‘good eye’.
September 22nd, 2011 at 1:27 am
Good story, lovely poem.