Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-the dog peeks out of the blankets November 26, 2020

Filed under: poem,Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:20 am
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The alarm. Snooze hit five times.

The feet unsteady.

The eyes blur the room.

Shoulders ache.

Ankle twinge.

Tired. So tired.

A good day to stay inside.

Light a fire.

Bake something to take

pandemic weariness away,

But the mask is on

Happy face

the work day

awaits.

 

poem-Wednesday September 13, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:30 am
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I woke to my alarm’s

jaunty greeting, lay lulled, wondering where you were,

until I found the sense of you, pressed against my shoulder blades.

I lay, enjoying the warm weight of you,

until the alarm started up again.

It meant it this time.

So, regretfully,

I pulled away from you,

buried my face in your warm belly,

said farewell as you stretched and smiled up at me.

Wednesday will be a long day apart,

but I will return,

and you’ll be waiting,

eagerly.

.

.

.

(a little homage to my canine companion!)

 

 

poem- morning October 28, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:04 am
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Good morning

dull day

grey day

full day

Good morning

dark day

play day

work day

Good morning

 

poem- crows October 3, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:47 am
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The yard is speckled

with black spots

as if a coal train tipped on a fast corner

and sprayed lumps.

Twenty or thirty have spread out and bob

in search of hidden meals

or trouble

as is the nature of crows.

They’re strangely silent this morning,

like blurry eyed truckers

who’ve driven all night

and just want some breakfast

before the day begins.

 

 

poem-sun April 26, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:12 pm
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Morning came too early.

Sun squint blinds me

in daylight agony.

 

poem-morning December 26, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:16 pm
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Tender embraces

whispers in the dawn

unveil tomorrow;

night is gone.

 

Poem- Easter Monday aubade April 6, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:13 pm
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Last night

you woke in horror.

“What is it?” I asked.

You shivered, “A nightmare,

one of the worst I’ve had.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

I asked sleepily.

“No,” you said.  “I can’t think about it.”

“Am I ever in your nightmares?”

You pondered for a long time.

“No,” you finally said.  “Never.”

“Then come closer,” I said,

“I will protect you.”

In the morning, you are gone,

but you have left behind

the sighs of your security

in my arms.

.

.

Today http://www.napowrimo.net prompt is to write an aubade.  I am particularly fond of aubades.  They are the opposite of a serenade.  In a serenade, the lover is trying to entice into the beloved’s bed; in an aubade the morning has come, and the lover must depart.  I wrote one last year (or before?) that I’m sure WordPress will link to beneath this post.  You may enjoy that one, too.  I was quite proud of it.

 

poem- companionable November 29, 2014

Filed under: Poetry,poodles — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:55 am
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I wake to

the gentle snores

and the warm back

of my canine companion,

whose black eyes blink

and sleepy tail thumps once

as I caress his white wooly side.

 

poem-lying September 21, 2014

Filed under: Poetry,poodles — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:12 am
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I wake

to feel you lying

stretched along

the length of me.

I reach out my hand

and find not flesh

but fur.

You have been replaced

by canine devotion.

.

.

.

.

This is an interesting example of ‘living poetry.’  People ask how I can come up with a poem every day, and I say I see them everywhere.  This morning, completely dazed with sleep, this happened, I muzzily composed this poem as I reflected on the surprise, and then fell back to sleep.  When I finally got up, there it was, ready to share.

 

poem-lampstand August 6, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:34 pm
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I walk through my

childhood neighbourhood.

Just because,

I lean against the lamp post

I held up every morning

in grade seven

as I waited for the bus.

Different weather

but always too

early in the morning.

More rusty,

it hummed

a greeting

remembering

(or maybe

that was me).

 

 
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