Ode to Dead Bird



I arose 
To death 
In my garden
This morn

Blood lukewarm
Mangled maybe 
But still whole
More or less
I think 

I knelt 
To grieve 
In my graveyard 
This dawn 


Old cloth
Sheen of black
Hand shook
Heart raced
Eyes couldn’t look
I sink 


I numbed
To knowing 
In my mind
This wild 


Shut up
Shut in
Shut out 
I need
A burial 
I think

  • Author: sylviasearcher (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 2nd, 2022 04:06
  • Comment from author about the poem: I found a dead blackbird in my garden and did what any normal weirdo would do and wrote it a poem before burying it
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 100


  • Fay Slimm.

    And your words dear Sylvia weave care around the sad scene with this heartfelt lament to the loss of such beauty - - so pleased to see you back posting again.

    • sylviasearcher

      Thank you Fay… I have struggled to write very much for a while, but appreciate your encouragement always 😊

    • Neville

      you did the write thing .. hope you are well & now back for good ................ N

      • sylviasearcher

        Thanks Neville…

        Are we ever really here?

        Just struggling with writing lately… 😞

        • Neville

          I'm not so sure myself these days but I certainly seem to share that affliction you refer to ..

        • dusk arising

          To find one of natures beauties like this would indeed inspire me to poetry too. Especially our beloved blackbird who enters my poetry with such a fine evensong which has lifted me so often.

          Your feelings come across well in your poetry today.

          • sylviasearcher

            Thank you… Birds are like messengers to the soul

          • Michael Edwards

            My kind of poetry - to the point and so poetic - Superb write.

            • sylviasearcher

              As always thank you for your kind words

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