Shawn L. Bird

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

poem-quarantine March 14, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:45 pm
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I stay at home on quarantine;
I am not feeling serene.
Mexican vacation’s been
cancelled, and I was so keen

to escape from all the snow.
Caribbean sunset glow?
Basking on a sandy shore?
Travel’s bad right now, I know.  😦

We already had t. p.
no panic necessary.
Asthma inhaler ready.
Home holiday with hubby.

I will unpack my suitcase
Stuff the new swimsuit some place,
Wash your hands! Don’t touch your face!
Hope we all survive with grace.

(A poem on life in the COVID19 pandemic)

 

 

 

 

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poem- impatiently February 28, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:49 am
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If I refuse to wear my boots,

choose a light jacket instead of that coat,

keep my feet on gravel, ignore snow piles,

can I force winter to go?

Beguile spring with my wiles?

 

Poem-spies January 30, 2020

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:49 pm
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A Facebook found poem, with thanks to Liz.
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Seven magpies
lined up on the roof
across from my office,
watching me.
Creepy.
They are not a poem.
This is not a poem.
Not at all.
Creepy magpie
spy
poem.
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poem-time traveler November 1, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:10 am
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Boom box boy

bouncing to the smoke pit

announcing your existence-

loudly.

Stride on

Caught in a lost decade

I’m grateful as that music fades.

 

 

poem-MIA October 9, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:29 am
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I keep checking the email

Certain I’ve missed notification.

Maybe it’s time to accept

I missed the mark.  Vexation.

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride

is better than missing the celebration.

When you’re sure this is the one,

anticipation’s crushed by negation.

 

 

Poem-Plumbing Depths June 14, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 2:24 pm
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This well is dank and dark,

Though they have promised from the depths

She will see stars,

so far, it’s darkness all around.

She only feels

a giant on her chest squeezing

joy, until tears squish dripping out.

She’ll fill this well with grief;

the only escape may be

floating on surface sorrow

until it floods over the wall

with all the sadness she can carry.

 

poem- where I am June 1, 2019

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 5:25 pm
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Sun glory

Sky painted blue

Wishing for you:

New stories

 

 
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