Sonnet: I, the Magpie

If God were kind, I’d have a beak and wings
and small clawed toes, to light into the trees,
and honey’d voice, with which my words I’d sing.
I’d sweep the winds and upon my wings seize

the sun-warmed breezes o’er this asphalt sea
and find freedom myself in foreign lands
but one can’t fly, when solid her bones be;
white-banded wings I thus must change for hands

and lose my sweeten’d tongue for whispers soft
that echo through the sky like falling snow.
Alas! that I will never spring aloft
while magpies travel where I dare not go.

The birds may once again find what they’ve lost
but man is ever cursed to be star-cross’d.

October 2008

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s