And Then The Tree Said …
Oh God of Green, give me strength,
there’s something pecking at my neck,
something other than this birdbrain
poem about old barren trees & cold
skin-pricked days & lichen knitting
into my limbs, & hold me strong
against this blowing back & forth
& thresher rain that chops my knees,
& I stand rooted in my lack of green,
iced by hollow wind that flutes a tune,
& now there’s a fat-barrelled pigeon
sat on my gnarly twig, & I’m thinking…
quick, be quick, & release this bird,
let it fall like a child’s stripey beach ball,
watch it bouncing off this branch, limb
& twig, because quite truly, I’ll not
miss its throaty call at all, so pigeon,
pigeon, go be gone, & let me sleep
until I’m smitten by spring again.
PB “personification of a tree branch with a bird on it” ©️ Misky 2020 Image from Unsplash
It's Still Life 
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