when to stay silent

the sun is shining but
it’s far too windy
for the bluebird
to work on his nest

he sings with frustration
and i watch, helpless
for i know a storm is coming

(someone else said so)

i know that peace
is always temporary
and the wind
will blow me clean

(there is always a storm coming)

and there is always a bird
building a nest
who does not mind

i know, too, that the birdhouse
is cracked

(i don’t mention this)

.

.

.

.

A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.

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