This is the second of my borrowed first line poems – this time borrowed from Charles Causley.
I am the song that sings that little bird—
the one just there, the brown one, yellow wings;
the sweetest music I have ever heard.
I am the song that sings a little bird,
the notes so pure, yet trilling. It’s absurd
how hard to quell the sadness when I sing
that lovely song that sings a little bird
to please me, that brown one with yellow wings.
Loosely linked to Margo Roby’s Imagistic Prompt