M.V. Feehan

Each Sovereign Kingdom

I am better
In the small world
Of house and child
And mate
And dog
I know where everything is

The First Bird

As if the
ripple notes from your tiny breast
were shaped by some perfect link
your wings and throat
and the first soft thoughts
of the day.

And your happy past
is roused like rain
upon the parched fretting
that lived between the pillow
and my head at 3AM
to wake me
happy for the sleep
that came after all.

Happy for the music
you read in the buds
that rise likes notes in spring
unrehearsed but expert.

Look what you do!
Small singing feathery thing;
as light as the soul
should be.

M.V. Feehan © 2017