Tuesday, March 28, 2017


The Songbird's Silence

Darkling thrush upon the bough
Do you see your darling now?
Did you hear her songbird's calling
As the arrow pierced her, falling?

Through the night and through the rain
Did you feel your darling's pain?
Crumpled feathers softly fell
From nest of home to earthly hell.

No song shall pierce the gray of dawn
Now that your muse of song is gone
No feathered touch, no winged embrace
Your world devoided of her face.

She sang her last sweet thrush refrain
And you flew off into the rain
Through night and noon and cloudless sky
That arrow bid no last goodbye.

And now you sit, a songless bird
No note to warble, no trill be heard
In birch bough waiting till death is come
To take you to her. To take you home.

©by Voo
March 1, 2004
10:45 p.m.