Birds on the Wire

Birds on a wire, chattering, bickering, constantly shifting
but always together,
silhouettes against the grey sky.

Once or twice, as a flock, they raise up and fly,
a cloud of wings and fluttering,
but only for a moment, until they return to their perch.

One flies off, it’s wings slow and lazy,
and for once, the rest stay put as the singular bird
leaves them.

For where, you wonder.
And why, and
where to?

Suddenly, the birds lose your interest.
They have no journey, no destination, no story
to stir the soul

and you leave, suddenly aware
you have journeys of your own,
and it is time to disappear into the sky,

no longer
a bird
on the wire.

About this poem

I am not sure when I decided to live a different kind of life. But for all it’s faltering, falling wackiness, I am glad I did.

Tom