At the top
of the spires
of the ocotillo
where red flames grow
perches a phainopepla
emptying his throat.
His sweet song
drifts over the sage
brush for all to hear.
But if no one
pauses to listen,
is there a sound?
I live a very quiet life at the end of a road on three acres.Sometimes when I go into town, to the mall to go shopping, it seems really noisy to me. There are all sorts of buzzing, rings, voices, and sounds I don't normally hear. I think about those birds and I wonder what voices the city folks hear. What birds have you seen or heard today? For your poetry challenge for today, can you try writing a poem about some sound you hear? Have fun writing.
Today I'll stop and listen to the sounds around me.
I love the red flames growing on the ocotillo. Very lovely poem. Thanks, Joy.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Rosi.
DeleteI imagine this poem is going to reappear again later in some other version because I keep thinking about that bird singing . I wonder if he cares if anyone listens to him or not.
Joy,
ReplyDeleteMaybe you can let the bird tell/sing his song in a poem. His message to readers.