Morning Bird

By David L. Painter

Most mornings I take my coffee out on the veranda.

There high up on a branch

in one of the stately Magnolia trees

sits the most

magnificent bird

with bright wings

and a throat that glistens, as he

lifts his head and sings his 

sweet and wondrous song.



This is a new day and the bird’s song

is all that matters.

And I laugh because

there is nothing else to do, but laugh

and listen. For all the mistakes

of yesterday are just that.



There came a day as most days do

when he came no more.

The stillness of the tree was the only sound.

I looked up and the sky was blue as blue can be. 



There was a small wisp of a cloud floating by

and then it was gone.



Most mornings I like to take my

coffee out on the veranda.

I look for him, thinking perhaps today,

perhaps today.

And I think that

I will always be grateful for his song. 

David is an International published poet. He is a member of the Inner city writers’ group and penned in the city. His works have been published in Sweetycat Press, Piker press, Rye Whiskey Review, Clarendon House, Spillwords Press, The Writers’ Club, and Dyst Literary Journal as well as The World of Myth, Every Writer, Ohio Bards and Academy of the Heart and Mind. He is a member of Ohio Writers Group and West Virginia Writers Group.