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Month 5:10 “Approaching Fifty-Two”

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.

    Like

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