Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem- it’s raining May 6, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:25 pm
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I’m chilled to the bone.

I wish for a wood stove:

that crackle and flash,

heat that sinks in deep,

defines cozy comfort,

makes me want to sleep.

I can hear my mother,

If you’re cold, put on a sweater!

I want a wood stove:

the summer scent on  logs,

I want

warm feet on a hassock,

hot cup of tea,

well-written mystery.

Fine, Mother.

I’ll get a sweater, too.

 

 

poem- heard March 3, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:24 am
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I heard the rumble of

my grumblings

and wished

and wished

and wished

for what was glorious and joyful

what was fun and focused

what was

ah

what was.

This is uncomfortable

unsettling

unsatisfying

unbearable.

I heard murmuring

everywhere.

Everyone

grumbling

wishing

wanting

longing

for what was,

what no longer can be,

looking

for change again.

Everyone

and

me.

 

 

 
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