Today, at the edge of the lawn — a meter board, peter board, step on up — magnitude [!] a gray bird was perched, Hey [!] how gay, may I play [?] your way, say, please stay.
I sway trying to discern the shape, a cape, his feathers…
But it’s the attitude of this dude, the mood, how rude, you’d think this bird construed a prelude to my next symphony — Rhythm of Life – but no this bird,
And I am filled with gratitude for its fortitude to change my solitude. I remember you [!] I said to the Mockingbird.
When I hear the fluttering of bird wings,
Instinctively my soul tries to sing.
The small sparrows hop scotched from bush to bush.
Did my walking inspire them to do such?
Some migratory birds fly in a “Vee”;
Drafting in each other’s “breath” … team-work “TEE”.
A bird in the sky stridently complains.
The cat looked up and wondered at its pain.
Shadows rushed by, like heavy sheets flapping,
A flock of black birds fly [one mind] rushing.
The vivacious Blue Jay’s known for its scream, but has a gentler song, as well, like “cream”. Were the bird’s feathers as wet as they seem? The Blue Jay, in the rain, looked at me — BEAM. Baby asked mother to linger, “we’re a team.” But the Blue Jay kept walking; tree limb seam. With a bounce, the Blue Jay sought my esteem; bread clenched in its beak, gratitude’s the theme. A Jay’s coat, indescribable supreme, that blue, black and white style’s a tailor’s dream.
Emerging shadows, a Crow flirtatious proceeded to untie my shoelaces. Crows eluding Mockingbirds’ good graces, pursue each other around “the bases“. I saw three Crows on a wire fence [stasis] — companionable perch, silent voices. Thrusting its neck out, the Crow made faces; “The Caw” left almost physical traces. When a black Crows flies it’s almost gracious,
long wings [serene] stretching through the ages.