Shawn L. Bird

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

poem- later July 10, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:22 pm
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I expected

in my youth

a natural ending.

You railed against presumption.

Never!

Always!

Hyperbole spun us out,

Now our orbits can’t intersect.

I was okay with that,

until I wasn’t.

We’re not supposed to break promises,

even irrelevant ones.

Curse nostalgia.

 

poem- didn’t say July 9, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:11 pm
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He didn’t say it.

Not on the day

or the day after, when he used to remember.

No more embers. glowing.

Not hanging on the threads anymore, I just realized.

How strange when forever

truly dies.

 

poem- missed August 25, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 6:23 pm
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Your eyes glow

when you see me across the room.

It’s been a long time.

You’re still wearing your heart

on your arm.

Once again,

I feel appreciation for your admiration,

awkward it’s still unrequited.

Oh, the confusion of my youthful charms.

Thank you, for

reminding me

so sweetly

who I used to be.

 

poem-ghost stop August 9, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:44 pm
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In my old neighbourhood

I stop at a light-controlled intersection

that didn’t used to be,

On the corner

I see a glimmer of a younger me

in my safety patrol vest,

the stop sign at my back,

waiting for the whistle to spring to action

decades ago.

 

poem- hockey night at our house April 20, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:44 pm
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I turn on the TV:
Hockey commentary.
I am ten again.
Dad’s in the family room.
Whooping
Groaning
Arguing with the ref.
I feel a rush of nostalgia.
Turn the channel.

 

poem- humming April 12, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:43 am
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I feel your humming.

Though you are far,

the vibrations of your present loss

reverberate.

I am humming

remembering you

near

nearer

nearest

wrapped around

my memories

squeezing like

a garbage compactor

humming

as it crushes

moments into

memories.

 

 

poem-sweater March 13, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:21 pm
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I found your cardigan

and held it close

searching for the sensation of your arms.

I gathered up the folds

and held it to my nose

searching for the scent of you.

You’ve been gone too long.

Instead of holding memories

Now

it’s just a sweater

you once wore.

 

 

 
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