A Poem by Martin Hicks

A SONGBIRD'S DEATH

The weather turns in subdued season

Red-coloured woods to sedate grey.

Regressive, as bright wit flies reason,

Grim, senile Earth wears dull array.

Weak sun departs till times hereafter

When all shapes note a cheerful scale,

When tone as tint joins rill run laughter

And warmth strips frigid, fearful veil.

Here now a songbird-late companion-

Death makes discarded crate its home.

Sweet, guileless tune for natural union

Finds throaty stop, gulped... styrofoam.

One whitish chip midst seeds mistaken

Then poor choice vital passage chokes

Where on path, only cold gusts shaken,

Dead leaves lisp further chilling jokes.

-Martin Hicks