He’s Gone

As you age there’s a chance they’ll say He’s gone to the

dogs (ruined) or He’s gone to the birds (worthless). Both

sound rather ageist to me but what do I know at my age.

In my case its literal for while dogs may be in my future

for the present I’m flush with birds—bluebirds more of

a faded denim, lushly breasted robins, Poe-ish ravens,

red-headed woodpeckers, and my father’s favorite cardinals.

 

The pigtailed little girl shook the Ash Wednesday bells

three different times on cue as the priest waved his smooth

hands over the brazen chalice and while the ringing rang

rich it cannot hold a candle to the rousing chorus in feathery

robes these days outside my clear-paned windows. Birds—

devil-may-cares coming in on a wing and a prayer neither

sowing or reaping, assuming God (or now me) will feed them.

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8 Comments

  1. Ken Edwards on March 9, 2022 at 7:14 am

    beautiful

    • nancy marie on June 29, 2022 at 12:15 pm

      i hope you will return

  2. Karen Moore on March 9, 2022 at 7:29 am

    Thank you John for your words. They inspire me, enrich my life and sometimes make me cry

  3. Gwen Acres on March 9, 2022 at 8:22 am

    Painting with words…thank you.

  4. Michele Morin on March 9, 2022 at 9:43 am

    Holy presumption!

  5. Sherrey Meyer on March 9, 2022 at 8:20 pm

    Your expressive words have painted a most beautiful picture!

  6. Marsha Hall on March 11, 2022 at 11:16 am

    A beautiful picture I can imagine with all the beauty in your words. Cardinals are my favorite also. ❤️

  7. judy burke on March 12, 2022 at 9:59 pm

    Cardinal’s a favorite of Burkes Tindles and Blases!

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