Art by Norman E. Masters
| Whistle black bird, atop my gray fence post while yet the sun of this high noon shimmers a jeweled mirage in bronze and purple feathers. I will not turn, for as I passed, I saw your gold, michievous eye... and you would think to fool me bird with that mock-human whistle? We are alone here, you sleek bird, and I in Spring's green meadow. For you it may be morning in the world, but I will never turn again in May to any piping human's bird song whistle. |
