Poetry

There's a bird on the telephone
pole
Through the window behind the
trees
It gazes into my soul
A finch I believe
 
The bird on the telephone pole
Must surely be cold
It is months before spring
Indicates the snow
 
The bird on the telephone pole
Has been there on that telephone
pole
For quite a while
The other birds flock
He waits before he prowls
Could be she
That is the bird on the telephone
pole
A diva much too tired to fly
Awaiting a mate of perfect grace
to take the sky
 
How could something so wonderful
seem so effortless
I envy that bird on the telephone
pole
The patient wind author
And not a second later it mocks
me with its elegant departure
 
 
O where O where
O where will u go
Mysterious bird from the
telephone pole