Thursday, January 8, 2015

chain of thought

In the garden, above the frost hops a bird,
a magpie, black, blue and white-
he who steals shiny metal, would he take my old golden ring
to use as a decoration for nesting?
I wonder, does he have children, other little magpies
do they have enough worms?
dirt and worm, sun and warmth.. isn't that enough?
my selfish being, must I clean the garden,
take out the weed and the wheat along, a thief I've become too
 Have I mowed over his last meal for the day?
They say magpies alone, bring sorrow
in couples, bring joy, what if unlike storks magpies cannot hold
on abstract concepts,nor babies,
nothing but glimmer and packed rays of sunshine
maybe the weight of abstracts is too much..

do the birds ever tire from their flights?
if these questions fall with the speed of light in my head,
then they are just thoughts.

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