Easter in Birdland

photo  courtesy of Google

Sir Yard Bird's cognac reed 

soaked up tight

hangin out ontop a 24k gold telephone wire

then glides off,

pregnant with another ridiculous hatch.

And all the day long

he bops and soars, 

feints and jives,

sportin some improbable floppy hat

talons and feathers flyin.

Raindrops drip from my St. Lucie roof

as I reflect on Bird's hip image of the world,

while abducted by drenched Pascua daisies and sunflowers,

butterflies drink deliriously from within.

Nearby, a soggy park bench 

waits for the sun

 still bathed by a mother oak's fingers,

while children dance among Yardbird’s bebop bubbles,

their carefree bones and laughter

making any confusion obsolete 

with each moment’s inspiring musical idea.

And so too a hoverin springtime baby bird

carries on with its maiden voyage,

enchanted every moment of its fledgling life:

a singular breath 

improvised to the tune of freedom. 

4/1/18

Easter Sunday

Port St. Lucie, FL