A Late Bird

Rating: 4.3

A late bird, your song flutters, heart to heart.
I see notes hanging from telephone wires,
then falling softly into the deep grass.
And I lay there, staring out of this world,
into another’s sky, where perhaps you might
be laying, and I ask, who are you?
Over and over, and we drift,
making people out of wishes,
filling skies with cherry blossom
and fancy silken hopes, misplacing spilt dreams,
then throwing a coat down to hide them,
not quite sure who will step on
into the future, and who will sink
out of sight, below that rising heaven.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sarwar Chowdhury 25 August 2008

This a fine composition indeed.......10

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Greenwolfe 1962 19 August 2008

I gave this a 7 because I feel the writer changed his mind during the poem. Maybe he didn't, but if he didn't, that could be worse. Then I would have given a lower mark. If I am wrong, then I am just wrong and the meaning escapes me. In that case, I did the right thing after all. GW62

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Viola Grey 10 August 2008

this is just simply beautiful...gorgeous images spring to mind....great work

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Callie Carroll 10 August 2008

Wistful and beautiful. My goldfinches are still here in KY and many others.

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