Zills
By Ewan
- 1519 reads
The bare branches are as noiseless
as a shaken tambourine with no zills.
We peer, search the frosted bark in vain
for a tiny execrescence
we might call a bud, or even hope.
The Russian Steppe’s favourite general
will win this year’s final war,
aided by a sino-biological weapon
created in live-meat markets
for lovers of bat and pangolin.
But
The sky is blue today, we waste no
polysyllabic synonyms on its simple beauty:
we layer ourselves like matryoshkas,
before braving the carless calm to listen
to the zillish trilling of waxwings.
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Comments
"carless calm" is wonderful.
"carless calm" is wonderful. There is a huge peace in your poem, the only sound the waxwings at the end. It's lovely.
And thankyou for a good z word fror scrabble :0)
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We don't have waxwings round
We don't have waxwings round here - what beautiful birds they are! Missed this when you posted it, but I'm very glad to have read it now. We could all do with a bit of your zen - thank you ewan
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