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