Three open
beaks, oddly
pink, bony.
Their silent
hunger pre-
historic.
Some of us
learn it is
safer to
hunger in
silence. And
some of us
learn that with
so many
mouths and so
many hearts
to feed, it
feels safer
not to list-
en.
July 16, 2015 by Rosemerry
Three open
beaks, oddly
pink, bony.
Their silent
hunger pre-
historic.
Some of us
learn it is
safer to
hunger in
silence. And
some of us
learn that with
so many
mouths and so
many hearts
to feed, it
feels safer
not to list-
en.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged hunger, poem, poetry, survival, syllabics | 3 Comments
Provocative, to say the least. I am in awe of the depth of your thoughts, offered with enough clarity but at the same time obscurity to challenge us readers to think…. thank you, rosemary.
Wow, what a generous thing to say. Thank you. This poem was a fun one to write. I had just seen these little birds in a nest outside my door, built on top of a light fixture. The game in it for me was to make each line three syllablesa little nod to them, voicing their voicelessness, somehow.
I so appreciate your comments, and that you read the poems. Thank you.
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Thursday, July 16, 2015 at 10:33 PM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “In the Nest”
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This one for New Verse News, for sure. Such a powerful expansion to the human world just by peeking into that little nest.