Storm birds

Storm birds

The storm has come again,
the same that girdles the earth
with serpent breath and bull-bellow voice;

the green is doused and dripping,
chaffinch-tongued by the house,
indefatigable warblers in the hedge.

Birds have little time for posturing;
not even the unchained ranting
of the sky will keep them quiet
while there are still songs to sing.

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.

4 thoughts on “Storm birds”

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