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a bird and a boy
one day as a boy I went down to the sea
clambered o'er rocks way out to the bluff
stopping to search in a tide pool for shells
senses awakened by strong briny smells
warming, the zephyr was gentle enough
yawning in promise the sun winked at me
descending a crag and reaching the shore
I found my prized seat there on an old log
wriggling my toes to delve deep, the sand
pledging the treasure of shells in my hand
that sunlight and wind would scatter the fog
and thawing, I took off the sweatshirt I wore
'twas then that I spotted a bird, scarlet red
a Card’nal, and male with exquisite feather
perched on a snow fence abutting the dunes
greeting the day with the saddest of tunes
below in the grasses ringed by the heather
lay one female Cardinal … silenced and dead
I stayed there all day observing that sight
the male with a canticle pleading his mate
a sorrow and agony poured from that bird
as mournful a song as these ears ever heard
I stayed there 'til dusk, the sun bowing late
and still he continued deep into the night
I went back each morning to hear that bird sing
thus crooning all day for his dear love to rise
the rest of the summer and even years hence
with endless devotion he trilled on that fence
and tho' one sad spring he departed the skies
I watched evermore for red birds on the wing
well ...
I'm old now and weary but here's an odd thing:
when winter relents and the warm mistrals bring
a breeze with bouquets of hopes for the spring
as I'm biding the dark arm of slumber to cling
though it's often dismissed
I so swear through the mist
‘midst the eve, heaven-kissed
that I still …
hear …
him …no
sing.
~ for Walt Whitman ~
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden
Copyright ©
Gregory Richard Barden
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