Monday, 21 April 2014

Poem 21 of 30 Birdsong

If heard on the radio,
you’d think the sound effects department
had overdone it, setting the scene of a country park.
Yet somehow in the open air,
it seems perfectly balanced;
treble, bass, rhythm and counter-rhythm
underscoring the walk.
Cacophonous but distinct voices
blend in harmonious chaos
weaving dissonant melodies
into a tapestry of sound.
I sit on the bench, eyes closed
oblivious to everything
but nature’s song, trying to learn
the vocabulary of birds.

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