When Birds Could Talk*

November 1, 2015

2015 Merit Award
By Seth Friedman

When Birds Could Talk

The end is near, said the bird.
It would appear so, said I, since birds
have begun to speak.
The sunlight seemed indifferent, as
The bird cocked its eye:
Come to the river, it said.
Why, said I — and, which river?
But it flew into the blue sky.
Or — was the sky still blue?
It’s hard to remember now,
so much has changed.
If I had known which river,
I might’ve made it.
If the bird had been more specific,
Things might be different.
About one thing, though,
The bird was right:
The end came.
But what he didn’t mention:
Afterwards, it goes on.
What’s ‘it’, you ask —
Isn’t it obvious, I smirk:
The river goes on — and
Don’t ask which.

. . . . .
*Copyright 2015 by Seth Friedman. Broadside illustrated by Kim Wulfestieg.


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