13-7-2024
The wind sang
The bird,
He said he spoke in chirps
The chime rang
Nine thirty,
Invoking church
He grinned and in slang,
He softly spoke his favoured verse
“He said bang,”
Declared the word
“And there’ll be a cry from the wayward Perch.”
Find me by the gardens,
The flowers follow the suns guidance.
Poems of complete jargon,
The power in words are intended for defiance.
Then the bird remained in silence.
Copyright © R.P. Grcic | Year Posted 2024
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