Linda Studley

Birdsong

When I am gone the birds will sing
as if I had never been.
It is a rather morbid thing
to think of in the dawn.

But looking at it rationally,
the birds have no interest in me.
They sang before I came to be
They’ll sing when I am gone.

The fact of it was there and yet
I was blissfully unaware of it
and now it makes me feel a bit
sad when birds are singing.

But no, I will not fall in this
egocentric black abyss.
I will reclaim forgotten bliss
in  songs the birds are bringing.

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