Birdsong

A sense of white in motion
dives from the sky into the pond,
disturbing the isolation of the woods,
sending droplets in the air, fluttering,
until they fall in an arch,
reverberating in secondary drops
and turn into the waves
that touch the water’s edge.

The water bird pops up again,
its beak still empty from the fish that got away.
It floats there, confused, between the water lilies,
until it flies to another place on another day,
reflecting in the water as a firefly
that leaves its light with the setting sun.

Comments

  1. Creative FRANK WATSON POET, I feel your leaving some of your poems “untitled” makes them sound somewhat less attractive, and maybe, sound of less value. I believe giving your poem a title makes them more beautiful and appealing, don’t you think so, sir? No hard feelings, Mr. Frank, alright?! Always watching out to see more of your beautiful and inspiring poetry. Thanks, wish you the best.

    1. Hi Omar,

      Thank you for your comment, I appreciate it. I think of what I post online as works in progress, so I don’t always title them. But when I go through them and decide what to incorporate into a book, I always title the poems or the threads of related poems in order to give a better sense of the theme or feeling I’m going for. For the purpose here, I’m just trying to gather everything I’ve written into one place.

      Thank you again, I appreciate your feedback!

      Frank

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