William B. Watterson

Rookie - 18 Points (23 August 1943)

Bluebird - Poem by William B. Watterson

A bright, blue blur flashed in the April sun
As I jogged past a shakly barn along
A line of rotting fence near Wildcat Lake.
A lone bluebird homed in on a locust post,
Capturing me with black, accusing eyes.

My spirit sank as I journeyed back on the
Wings of time to kneel again
Behind a makeshift boyhood blind and watch
Two bluebirds nesting in a crooked crotch
High in my neighbor's tree. Once more I cursed
To see through salty tears as I heard the dull,
Disgusting thud of a fat, hot pellet finding its mark.
Again I saw the fluttering, failing fall,
Stroked the ruined pinions, and kicked the dust
To cover the damning gaze of a glassy eye.

Leaving his post, with fiercely beating wings,
The bird shot like a whining bullet past
My ear and disappeared into a thick
Balsam grove. I, heartsick, sober, subdued,
Hands jammed into pockets, no longer
Jogging, trudged toward home.

Comments about Bluebird by William B. Watterson

  • Valerie Dohren (4/14/2012 2:24:00 PM)

    Being a lover of birds I naturally homed in on this one, but it has saddened me. I can never understand why anyone would want to harm them. A very good poem. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, December 13, 2009

Poem Edited: Friday, January 22, 2010

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