Funny
egg
blithe
bird
don’t
fret
You
didn’t mean to
it
was just a trick of nature
an
old rule of biology
Imprint
And
who pretended more that you were mine?
Your
red-raw throat wide for everything I brought
you
outgrew the nest
before
I thought to peck and run you off
Now
look at you on your high branch
grown
so fat and fine
some
part of that mine
singing
songs that sweep me away
Trick
me again
Erin Bedford's work is published in
William Patterson University's Map Literary, Flash Fiction Magazine,
The Temz Review, and Train: a poetry journal. She attended and
won a Certificate of Distinction for her novel Fathom Lines from
the Humber School for Writers. Currently, she is acting as shill for
her second novel, Illumining, and a manuscript of poetry.
Follow her to find out more @ErinLBedford
the
Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan
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