The Lyrebird Poem by David Brooks
The Lyrebird
Early
on the way to a meeting at Batemans
I glimpse a lyrebird
on the edge of the Mt Agony road
gone as soon as I notice it
I slow down
and look at the place where it entered
but there is nothing,
the bird
become dry branch, scrub-
shadow.
Later
writing this down
I wonder what part of the self it is
hides amongst language
– looking at
these words, this
page,
trying to find where I entered.
A wonderfully worded poem, it's true if we do not pay attention very well, we'd forget which way we entered to the place, the poet was atracted by the lyrebird, but he flew to elsewhere so quickest, gone, nothing to see. The poet was disappointed.5 Stars for this poem of melancholy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 2:37:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I cannot find a special part for COMMENTS, so I tell you at tis space that you are chosen as THE POET OF THE DAY, by Poem Hunter and Team, I love to say CONGRATULATIONS to you, dear Poet.