In the April of Covid 19
Day 28
“… and then (sang) another in which she said her heart was like a bird’s nest ...”Dylan Thomas
Mockingbird
Woven bed of milkweed.
Lambswool and lichen. Braids of grass.
My heart-nest where mockingbird
composed her song of skyloving weather.
And the bird pecked feathers
from her breastbone. Gave up flight for
brooding in the hollow chamber.
A voice of numberless notes unseeded.
Now the nest lies abandoned
in this cage of my ribs. And I search
the forgotten summertime
of singing trees in hope of wings return.
Skylover Wordlist: Numberless
Play It Again Toads: Harper Lee
"Mockingbirds don’t do one thing except make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corn cribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us.”
Harper Lee
