Noise and blackbirds

so many mouths mouthing
no one listening

everyone is right
the others are fascists
mouths open and close

trees flutter wings and a jay
concentrates on the swaying
of a grasshopper on a stalk.

Wind ruffles the grass
all the grass
not just this meadow
splash of green on a map

it is
because I say it is
I am
whatever I say I am

tumbling stream water
runs to the river
night falls
badger walks

and they plan cruises and binges
sprees and fiestas as if
the moving carpet was not reaching the end.

The voice of the wind
joins the blackbird’s song
and the robin’s song
tosses them high—

I count the new molehills in the path
the flowers in bud

and still mouths open
but nobody listens

they don’t need to
they know they are right.

I cling to the simple truth
in the blackbird’s song.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

18 thoughts on “Noise and blackbirds”

      1. If it’s normal or if the spring hasn’t begun, there maybe won’t be blossom to damage. Here, everything was started and the first fruits were forming. All the apricot crop in the south has gone, for example.

      2. I can’t get too upset about the vineyards. They’re poisonous places and the soil has been degraded so much many of them only produce rubbish now. The owners have been overproducing for decades.

  1. They can’t even hear themselves think…if they were indeed thinking.
    The birds are quite busy here, and chorus especially in the morning. It’s always a welcome sound. (K)

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