joannie struck a chord
sang the saddest of songs
of a revisiting ghost
she sang about bobbie
when the moon was full
in her soulful soprano voice
diamonds and rust, lost love
a haunting of sorts
she sang that his blue eyes
were bluer than robins eggs
i remembered those eyes
knew it to be true
and though i have never seen
a robin’s egg, one was hidden
for sure in a nest in the ivy
outside our back door
for the robin diligently
entered with juicy grubs
when it was safe to do so
when no one was looking
until one morning I found
on the unforgiving ground
a fledgling, pathetic
cold in its half made vest
i watched the distress
of the returning bird
heard its anguish
saw it take off for good
my thoughts caught joannie
was she pushed from the nest
or did she fly away
of her own accord