Oct 16, 2009

ode to cuckoo

spun in mahogany,
she greets me,
in her friendly scents
and uncanny snouts
like a long-lost companion
-she, a maverick,an errand

whistles
and pooches
and coochie-coo's
her only language i know

fanning my sweat
with her own grime
and ants that
thrive on her tail
she jumps on to me
in her petite frail

i look at her
with an eye of sympathy
for she's often
dejected as stray
but to me she's beautiful
like a butterfly may

2 comments:

Nawaid Anjum said...

Beautiful!! Your ode makes me think of a Wordsworth's poem after aggges. My fav stanza:

To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen!

eddies said...

:)