Yuletide Poem by Rich Harney

The yuletide came and went,
The birds were happy then.
They don't stop their daylong
To love then sad — repent.

'Tis queer of men so wise
Gage their life— do have to,
While birds just kiss at merry skies
Not a gift do they accrue.

No grace upon them to speak,
No stories to tell —them,
Save a worm inside a yellow beak,
And branch for their nest — stem.

Would I be as this ferried lover
Carried on the wind unfretting?
Of course! bid me fly—another
Bye bye, I'm just a bird forgetting.

But then these wouldn't be:
The scintillating sips—
Mozart in the morning
and afternoon, her lips.

To feel such sad as joy
When the cradle drops.
A child's love of a toy
Til he grows old and stops.

That plaintive song that's sung
In a snow laden mystery
A poor man trembling ago, hung
On a lonely tree.



R. Harney