The Thing with Feathers

Hope most certainly has feathers-

and he perches on my soul-

he sings the tunes-and-the words-

which in my heart, never stop at all-

And sweetest- from my Webster- is heard-

and no storm so harsh could ever-

deter my little bird-

who warms my heart-

I’ve heard him in the morn and night-

and at my weakest on my knees-

and always- despite all efforts-

he leaves a crumb- for me.

© Autumn Siders 2016

To My Bird

I taught you the ways of the world

like how to make a human

cater to your every whim.

I taught you to make noise

when you want their attention

really do anything, go out on limb.

I taught you to make messes,

or maybe it was you who shared

the best way to leave the crumbs.

I taught you to cover your ears

whenever there is any noise

including those damn drums.

I taught you all of this and still

it seems as though your lessons

in love were somehow greater.

You helped me become a family cat

but I would still try to eat you

but not because I am a traitor.

So, let it be known, that no other

can ever abuse or attempt harm

to you, my bird and my brother.

So much as a cat can proclaim,

my love to you, I do unless anyone asks

then I don’t even know your name.

© Autumn and Emilita Siders 2016