Poem: “Cowbirds”



Cowbirds chatter, black winged clouds,
Thousands, fruit that sits in branches,
Flocks that wheel above in crowds

If this planet were a tree
And there were far and near observers
Would we seem the same as these?

Cowbirds chitter, wheel and curse,
Descend and roost where they find room,
Cowbirds of the universe

In that mob of shrilling birds
Voices chanting hymns in verses,
Glory I have heard

But faintly through the clacking mob,
Beaks and throats and wings aquiver,
Keen to peck and push and rob

October 6, 2011


About Author