Starting NaPo a day early, with the prompt of: your favorite bird. It’s not a great poem, but it is a poem, as finished as I can get in a day’s time. That counts, just like the photo.
I used to think it was the color
the brightest red given movement and flight,
Or maybe the notes as bright as the feathers,
everything birdsong should be.
But now I think maybe it’s more:
If you see him his girl is nearby.
Bright beauty isn’t for him, isn’t his
badge of pride. Bright red like a
heartbeat, he draws the attention
simply to keep his love safe.