“Country Birdhouses” by Martha Kisling
simple pine planks
sawn and fitted with
amateur joinery
finished in primary colors
slapdash garage homemade workbench technique
they hang high round my forest enclosure
crude rustic designs for my
unfussy visiting friends
those hard-weather creatures
who sing to me
words that I’m learning to translate
with help of a feisty old jay
knows the neighborhood
been here forever
has landed each limb-tip
escaped every squirrel and hawk
many hundred times over
a true kindred spirit
who never once judged
my unskilled outdoorsmanship
never made fun of my
concrete and asphalted roots
it’s him who decides
which bird gets what house
for nobody
not even me
would dare argue the point
Poesy plus Polemics 
Reblogged this on kakoimatheka.Jnr.
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Excellent poem, Paul! Very poignant and funny. I especially liked the line “a true kindred spirit who never once judged my unskilled outdoorsmanship.” Hope you are having a relaxing weekend, my friend!
Cheers,
Tyler 🙂
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thank you, my friend
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Love the idea of the old jay showing you the ropes 🙂
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happy that it worked for you
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Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
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How very cosy and rustic. Love the sound of prime colours and little birdies nesting. At your wish. Beautifully written.
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I only regret not having made one for owls
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Now that’s what IKEA need on their flat packed bird house kits. A bit a culture; an explanation and a poem rather than an inadequate set of soulless instructions!
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a capital idea
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There’s a bird lover in every poet
just as there’s a poet in every bird!
Blessings . . .
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what a lovely thought
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Oh I LOVE this–one of my very faves!
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it was fun to do
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I love this, especially that the birds are in charge of who gets what birdhouse. Wonderful picture of the birdhouses. I sense you have a unique relationship with these birds.
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not so unique – I just enjoy watching them from my windows
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