A Mockingbird [whiffler] sings this and that, Unable to decide where he is at. The Red-Tailed Hawk soars upwards towards cloudland. When this bird flies so high, are his dreams grand? Yearning to please, the girl’s a whiffler. Frequently shifting her mind made her “blur”. Amorous fluttering black Crows spoony — Long wings, standing on each other — LOONY! I wish I could take notes [visit] cloudland; Drifting between air molecules and sand.
Burn is a small stream in Northern England.
On its eroded banks did Warriors once stand?
Can we say a bird’s burning its bridges?
Deserting one’s nest for newer “britches”?
Chasing prey through the woods, around the bends —
This cat’s burning the candle at both ends.
The Great Horned Owl who flies both day and night;
Burns the midnight oil, what great eyesight!
I’d like to sit near that ancient stream, BURN,
To dream of my kinfolk, hoping to learn…