27 July 2007

Ode To A Solitary Pied Butcherbird


I have a friend, a pied butcherbird,
who cannot sing. A solitary soul, he
ranges through the trees warily –
keeps an expert eye on things.

A year ago I recognised his handicap,
half of his top beak is gone – it didn’t
seem to hold him down for long or
cramp his style in any way

except he’ll never win a mate. He
has to sing to manage that. It is a
tragedy that a bird whose voice
delights and entertains must dwell

in voiceless silence un-acclaimed,
an agony – a fate he carries in a state
of calm and dignity. He keeps an eye
on me as if I share his very private

thoughts; I mention this because I see
him every other day and ask him why
he has no mate – he is the greatest
hunter I have seen, pity female

butcherbirds don’t glean the simple
facts, a crop that’s full should beat an
empty head awash with song, especially
when its hunger calls the tune.
© 16 July 2007, I.D. Carswell

5 comments:

  1. A sad but beautiful poem,Ivan.

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  2. Reyes, thanks. I'm slowly paying my debts to all the animals around me; life in the Orchard is never dull or lonely with Half Beak as company! Rgds, Ivan

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  3. A sorrily state, but a friend in need!
    nature has its way of looking after things.

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  4. Anonymous4:24 am

    Such a sad story ...

    Wasn't able to email you, Ivan but wanted to ask if you mind me using one of your poems here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lynnmorag/2221214630/in/photostream/

    If you have any objections then I will remove your poem immediately. Thanks, Lynn

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  5. Lynn, no problem at all. I've seen the presentation and rather like it, Ivan

    ReplyDelete