A Short Bird

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

A
short bird
came today
to lie in the snow.
He told me
he was forgetting
how to fly
and forgot
how the sky
looked at night,
and he told me
he was forgetting
how he wanted to fly
(upside down sometimes),
and how he wanted
to sit on the top
of some tree he knew,

and he forgot forgetting there,
and the snow came
and covered his scream,
and he forgot nothing.

7 Comments

Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry

7 responses to “A Short Bird

  1. “A Short Bird” reminds me that forgetting might be a blessing or a curse depending on everything and nothing. There are so many levels to this poem. Edith, you are an exceptional poet. Thank you. – Sherry

  2. Great poems on here – and photos! Love the blizzard. Love the bird forgetting nothing at the end. All the best, Sandra.

  3. We tend to remember what we don’t want to, and then forget the things we wish we ca hold on to.

    Great poetry!

  4. Some tall birds have short memories…

  5. fivereflections

    how easy it is to feel sorrow for the short bird you have painted so well! very creative.

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