It's Still Life

A Few Thoughts After Lunch

1.
There’s a bird by his foot. It doesn’t fly.
It’s not asleep, and it doesn’t move.
It waits for him to turn the soil,
so it can peck at what’s trapped beneath.

2.
The air is still as grey. Grey is never noticed.
Invisible. Unseen as the back of a page.
I remember the Grey Man. He always
tucked his shirt into his underpants.

3.
Someone next door is coughing.
We’re coughing in this house, too.
They’re coughing across the street.
We harmonise with the neighbours.

4.
I’m not immune to this time of year.
Spring is ballistic green. Shouts colour.
The birds are singing Gershwin, and
my gumboots fill with warm rain.

5.
I’ve always wanted a big fish pond.
I have a big bird bath instead.
Birds splash in it as if it’s a lake,
cleaning their brittle feathered fins.

A Cadralor poem. AI Digital Artwork is created using Midjourney. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023