I wrote this about a month ago when I actually picked up on what the pigeon was singing! Listen in, you'll hear it... with or without an accompanying Singapore Sling! :)) xx
ROLLIN’ ALONG…
Adrift in a pine, a wood
pigeon coos ol man river
for the damp husk
of a summer
threshed of its sun.
In this watery south,
seasons linger
tardy and warm
but today just
fluffs grey feathers,
weakly responds with
the rain-spittled wheeze
of an early-autumn cough.
Kate, this poem is adorable and I too can relate to "tardy& warm" it is 70's in MA, usa and so loving it, ...........the rain spittle wheeze, that was last week. and stanza 2 , I like! also makes me think about decorating w/indian corn for t-giving around here....cheers! Best, Morgan
I can hear the pigeon sing, Kate. Of course, the Singapore
Sling helps tune the ear. Do something about that cough. I
worry. Mainly, I like how you write. =gene.
Kate, lovely little last song of summer, first taste of fall, kind of write. For me, I think it would be a Long Island Ice Tea, and for the cough, have you, or the wood pigeion thought of giving up those cigars?
Avian epidemic invades the den! Fowl weather approaches the coast. Best belly up to the bar at the local tavern and sip a grog or three. You are on a roll Kate. There's a bit of poetic magic here. You must dispense with that wheeze though. Thanks for a most entertaining moment my dear friend. Love and peace to you. Jon Michael
love the mellow way this poem makes me feel. I sure hope your cough doesn't linger. I shall send you healing energy.
Also, Kason says "Hi" to his Auntie Kate..
I know what you mean-- that about picking up on birds' songs. I recall clearly the lullaby that our thousands of hens sung to lull themselves to sleep. They sing: "Soooo long light that hangs above; soooo long day, it's time to shushhh; shush now hens, and hang your beaks back down--back down--back down; hang them low, so low, so loooow..."
And cows have their songs too-- but you have to train them to sing. Mine sing opera-- No. REally. --Charlie
How clever and playful!
I do hope your own cough is gone.
I missed you,
Christine
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on October 26, 2010
Hah! Sorta the way it is down here in the sub-tropics of the United States, otherwise known as south Louisiana. In the high eighties and calling for nineties in a few days. Like trying to breathe underwater. And yes the pigeon here also coo in unison with those within this poem, with an occasional squawk from a hearty seagull.
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Always,
Deborah
Carole~
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Sheila
Sling helps tune the ear. Do something about that cough. I
worry. Mainly, I like how you write. =gene.
Cheers,
Newfie Hugs, Rose
Also, Kason says "Hi" to his Auntie Kate..
Much peace, love and light,
Amber
This is bird season at the Den what with seagulls and now pigeons...and I hope you're over that wheeze you had.
Slainte!
John
And cows have their songs too-- but you have to train them to sing. Mine sing opera-- No. REally. --Charlie
Regis
Wow, just when I thought you couldn't get any better............
~W~
love,
Christine
I do hope your own cough is gone.
I missed you,
Christine
fee
Georgexx