Dead Bird Uncovered by Spring
by Will Shade
Left by a melting snowbank:
Cup lids, pine needles, a cairn of dog shit,
And the grey soggy shape
Of an eyeless winter bird.
His breast is an old accordion
Gone to rot in an old attic,
What is left of his feathers the bearer
Of a watery workshop clay.
Songs may have parted
His tiny, straining beak,
But the frail reptilian legs
Broken to one side
And the one broken, extended wing
Laid on the soiled snow
Lend him an air of the graphic,
The ancient and hieroglyphic.
In rivulet, bud, and shoot,
Petal and pistil,
Rumors of growth are spreading
Old messages of renewal
As the bird melts into the bank
And the bank melts into the street
Like a secret slip of paper
A child folds smaller and smaller.
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Author's Note
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What a pleasure to read. Agree with spelling of 'grey.' Gray always feels too 'red' for me.
Very descriptive.I'm right there. The last two stanzas are particularly sparse and vivid.
Just a thought -
You've got "old accordion" and "old attic" - and
"legs broken to one side" and "broken, extended wing" -
The repetition of 'old' and 'broken' may be deliberate, but I wonder how it would read if one of each were changed.
Either way, a very nice read.
Delicate, vivid imagery. So much to say about one little bird.
This is incredibly good.
Dear Mr. Shade,
The element I most like in this poem is that it has form and is therefore a poem, a rare occurance.
George L. Chieffet