039 • Dead of night

039 • Dead of night

From the coalhole, or under the floor,
Strange birdsong I’ve not heard before.
The monochrome coo
Of a black cockatoo?
Or the plaint of a plainclothes macaw?

Edgar Allan Poe … that middle name, prosaic though it may be, confers a certain gravity. I was named Richard Eric Lime in imitation of the rhythm of Poe’s name. I’ve yet to marry an underage cousin, however.

2 thoughts on “039 • Dead of night

  1. Hi Piffle,
    Glad you agree. And the more remote we become from the natural world (the more our environmental carelessness reduces bird numbers) the more unsettling *any* birdsong is going to become.

    Go well,

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