Sunset Finch

There… framed by the setting sun,
Brushed by the painting strokes of light’s retreat,
An unremarkable House Finch sang his remarkably beautiful song.

His throat, unleashing his verse,
Simultaneously… a glorious, and longing note.

Calling for his lover.


And yet…unstoppable,

Defining his will to exist.

And seeing that simple singing for love…
Made me think of you.

How can I sing, with similar desire…
For you?

Listen for my call.

Separate my song from all the other distractions.

Listen for,
Feel for,
The beat of my heart.

I am calling for you.

Hear me!

Answer my hunger, with your call.

Come to me.



© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

Categories PoetryTags , ,

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