RSS Feed

Month 5:10 “Approaching Fifty-Two”


At dawn, too many birdsongs
to count up, flickering like the flames
of assorted used candles perched
on my recent birthday cakes.

Some songs hearty, others feeble, yet I’d bet
a bougie they’re not even praising the sun,
that fresh lemon confection. More likely
they boast, warn, threaten —
each ignition of throat a petty arson.

But just as a life can get better as it grows longer
a single day can too. When sun peaks
birds go quiet, infernal alarms snuffed
out, each beak shut
like my fingers pinching a wick.

by Therese L. Broderick
poem last revised June 1, 2011

About ThereseLBroderick

Independent community poet living in Albany, New York USA.

One response »

  1. This is gorgeous, Therese.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: