LAMENTATIONS 

Birds that navigate by the stars, rest in the unfolding tree. The poet sings with them. He sings as they sing of their happy travels. We watch them day and night. The birds sing. We watch them fight and protect territory that is not theirs.

The birds always ask the poet what sort of women he is involved with. He wonders if the birds are not old relatives looking after him or else old lovers temporarily disguised as birds.

"I was with a madwoman, now I am with a beautiful woman, full of soul."

"Ah," they twitter, "than you will write great poems!"

© 2001 David Eide. All rights reserved.