Poetry

Friday, 13 June 2025

Song without birds

 I listened to the song 

The one without birds

And all I could hear were

A series of hollow words


I felt my life spiralling 

Way out of control

And leant into the wind

Of a hot blowing soul


The song was quiet

The birds were a sleep

Upon their stick nests

Nestled in deep


And nothing disturbed them

Because no-one could speak

When the birds fell silent

At the end of the week

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