Birds in the Graveyard

Something to understand about life
is that when you describe the birds
you heard chattering as your mother

died, a cousin or a stranger will argue
that they were squirrels or a different
species of bird or maybe they were

cars on their way to church. You can show
them pictures, produce field recordings,
it doesn’t matter. Reading this, you’re

thinking I’m saying that people are
the worst. What I’m saying is that
the birds in this poem meant well,

but none of us realized they were just
trying to find a mate, some food,
and they were probably made up

for poetic effect anyway.

Raised on a rice and catfish farm in eastern Arkansas, CL Bledsoe is the author of more than twenty-five books, including the poetry collections Riceland, Trashcans in Love, Grief Bacon, and his newest, The Bottle Episode, as well as his latest novels Goodbye, Mr. Lonely and The Saviors. Bledsoe co-writes the humor blog How to Even, with Michael Gushue, located here: His own blog, Not Another TV Dad, is located here: He’s been published in hundreds of journals, newspapers, and websites that you’ve probably never heard of. Bledsoe lives in northern Virginia with his daughter.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.