Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Poem #11-2012 Velveteen Bird

asks the little bird.

"Because," I say,
"they told me all these
things are real."

"Are they?"
the little bird asks.

"Who are you to ask
me such a thing?" I say.

"Why don't you ask me
why I sing?"
the little bird asks.

"What's the point?
I know why you sing," I say.

"You do?"
the little bird asks.

"Of course," I say.

the little bird asks.

"Instinct," I say.

"And do your instincts
tell you that these
things are real?"
the little bird asks.

". . . No," I say.

And I begin to sing.

Contributed to dVersePoets.com
Open Link Night


  1. and in the end, wisdom...from a talking bird...smiles...sing on...

  2. Cool tale. :) Follow your own, not what "they" tell you. Only way to make your own songs.


  3. Wonderful! Wisdom from a bird.

  4. Sweet... love how you have communicated profound introspection in this poetic story.