Blackbird, his morning song …
Blackbird atop Telegraph Pole
The blackbird is my favourite. He’s bright and breezy, he fixes you with his beady, orange-rimmed eyes and he announces the morning like no other. I have a friendly regular blackbird visitor who makes my day. If I don’t see him soon after breakfast then I worry what’s become of him. So far, he’s been there without fail. There to do his job, to follow his instincts, but also to make my day. Here is my homage to ‘my’ personal blackbird!
From vantage point, his morning song
out on the wire, loud and long,
shouting his joy of a brand new day,
claiming his territory, determined to stay.
I talk to him ‘most every day;
exchanging notes of news in turn.
He tilts his head, bright-eyed, to say,
‘Does she want to talk and learn?’
I know which branch he prefers the most,
I know where he stands to raise a toast
to all he loves, notes of joy in the sun,
his heart is full ’til day is run.
His family hatched and shouting for food,
though just able to search if they try.
So loyal and proud, he shows his new brood
choicest tit-bits, if they dare to fly.
Eventide comes, he takes to the wire
once more to lay claim to his home.
His song reaches far, his heart is on fire,
as his zest for life strengthens my own.
For more works by this author see Ann Carr on The Creative Exiles.
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