Once I Could Say Poem by Ira Sadoff
Once I Could Say
Once I could say
my loyal friend, the house wren.
I might even sing to him.
Did I not hear the beatific,
the breathlessness—
a patter shaking the tamarind pod,
the bright green feathery foliage
stammered by a breeze?
Those muttering implosions,
did nothing intend them?
Is the harp, too, obsolete?
When the wren took his awl
to the infested branch
he fed me an idea there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/1/2024 8:41:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nicely thought.. I might even sing to him. Did I not hear the beatific,