Black Birds

A poem of promise and apology and prophecy.

Black Birds

Pondering about morning
and what we had to say,
I wonder if you noticed
the gloom about the day?

As I glanced out my window,
It made no earthly sense.
Big black birds of winter
were sitting on the fence.

It's April, almost May, now
and time for them to go
where big black birds go to rest
so the small ones can grow.

Are they confused as I am
with how the spring arrived?
Why didn't these birds listen;
Don't they want to stay alive?

If I could repeat my words
in a loving, soft way,
would you leave me lonely
or desire again to stay?

Tell me what you want to hear
I'll pay attention, more.
I'll warm up the parlor and
leave it open at the side door

Say you'll love me again,
and I'll warmly welcome you.
If you ever need me, I'll
come often as I used to do.

If you no longer want me,
let the black birds stay behind.
I'll join them out of season
as I slowly lose my mind.