A Poem: The Birds

We debate about who is right,
who is wrong.
Put our cards on the table,
turn them over.
Try even to build a tower,
our neighbour then blows over
with hot air.

While the birds out the window
keep on singing their
forever tunes.
Living in the width of the moment,
the stretch from dawn to dusk,
or at most,
the great leap between seasons.

While we barter at the table,
moving crumbs.
And wonder how much right we own,
how much wrong we can
shift to our neighbours.
While outside the birds
are singing

their bright earnest songs.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
July 2021

‘The chance beauty of a flower
redeems us from our stories.’

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s