Ploom #022
Ode to the Calling Birds
Sarah Royston
In wintertime when nights are cold
And days are drab and drear,
How merrily the Robin trills
His song so bright and clear!
This is my patch, geddit? Think you’re hard, do ya?
Fuck off or I’ll cut ya!
In springtime it is my delight
To hearken to the Dove,
Who coos so softly to his mate
A tender song of love.
Oh, baby, get that sweet tail over here…
You won’t fly straight for days.
In golden hours at summer’s end,
I walk and take my ease
And see the cheerful Blackbirds throng
Among the cherry trees.
Shit—predator! No, wait, it’s just that mumbling twat.
Watch this—I’m gonna crap right on his beret.
‘Ode to the Calling Birds’ read by Sarah Royston and Terry Holland
Sarah Royston
Sarah Royston is a writer who loves plants, animals and folklore. Her work has been published in Full House Lit, The Hyacinth Review, Noctivagant Press, Retreat West, and Bear Creek Gazette.