Chords
scurry, songs high,
casting lighthearted
raptures.
Sonnets for
the sky.
Twit and
woo join up
in
sensations bursting skies.
A tennis of
notes.
The sky
cracks open
in full colour,
notes ablaze
With full-throated
glee.
We listen
to songs
they send
us over rooftops,
nothing between
us.
A magpie
wakes us,
bursts a
repetitive cry
that we
take notice!
Turning
notes softly,
he calls
us, a lullaby
to send us
to sleep.
It stops
abruptly,
these dusky
songs of the birds.
The display
over.
Copyright
Vickie Johnstone, May 13, 2021
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