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Julia Slebioda Poem
As morning had begun little bird flew into men's house
Greeting sunrise with a gentle melody, a testimony of love
As it sang its song, tears filled the men's eyes
What is it that something so fragile can wake up both fear and delight?
Letting it go would be the closest to death as it comes
'I put you in a cage, maybe sometime soon you will sing for me again'
The days passed, weeks, months, eventually little bird sang his last notes
'superfluous for love to be so violent, I would have stayed if only you'd watered your garden'
Copyright © Julia Slebioda | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Julia Slebioda Poem
My home, my quiet refuge, kept in perpetual watch
On the outside pristine walls
Immaculate surface reflecting sky’s light
Misery coloured by blue and white
A little porch with a bench feels almost amicable
Please have a seat, but don’t make yourself too comfortable
Quiet as it kept, in my own lone familiar way I’m hiding what’s vulnerable. What if they see…?
Plants that shrivelled and died, under-watered or perchance overwatered, flooded with choices
Stairs that requite every misstep with a chorus of plaintive voices
A gash on the ceiling, arousing tension between two puzzles, both equally appealing
To fill the vacant spaces or keep them sealed
That one room where everything meets and at times, startlingly enough, disappear without a trace
Unspoken fears that pressed against the walls left peeled paint in its place
And askew bedside lamp, a night time witness to my despair
I could have possibly taken joy in owning it. That seems about right. But instead, I’ll just give them blue and white
Copyright © Julia Slebioda | Year Posted 2026
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