Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Poem #11-2012 Velveteen Bird

"Why?'
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.

"Why?"
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
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6 comments:

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

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

    -Ravenblack
    http://theotherdayplace.blogspot.com

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  3. Wonderful! Wisdom from a bird.

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  4. Very clever. k.

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

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