I had this ledge you see; a skinny windowsill.
Twas as thin as can be; staying on it took skill.
There was this routine, a bird came by each mornin',
Had I had an open screen, they'd have come right in.
Too picky I was always to accept their kind.
Instead I stayed in a daze; I'd nothing in mind.
These birds I couldn't admire, as I crazily once thought.
I wasn't inspired to aspire; seeking still what I sought.
So at their highest moment of ease, I tapped upon the glass
And away they flew into the breeze, never again to pass.
Lacking the harmonious ring of each bird's different song;
Silent loneliness made me sing, thinking I'd done wrong.
Author notes
Published to AP February 16th
A contest entry
- Best February Prewrites from These Dates: by Paloszoo.
700 points, ended March 2, 75 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Nice flow and the imagery of the birds and the point was well written. Blessings.
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Lovely images with a rather sad ending. Nice flow and rhyme! Thanks for entering my contest. Good luck. It’s an honor to have you show your work here!
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