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  • By Randal A. Burd, Jr.

The Song Bird

The songbird fluttered down and stood Upon my bedroom window sill To sing his song of loneliness And serenaded me until I ventured out; he ventured in, But once more out the window flew When I returned. He understood My cozy cage and now he knew My loneliness was far worse yet Than ever he thought his to be. So, as I in my bedroom sat, He often serenaded me Until, one day, the songbird flew Straightway into my window pane. I had that day the window closed When first began to fall the rain. So, fatally, the songbird tried To gain my warm security As I, imprisoned, looked outside And cursed responsibility. The same, yet not, songbird and I, Our daydreams ended swiftly then. The little songbird died without; My envy died within.

Randal A. Burd, Jr. is an educator, freelance editor, writer, and poet. His poetry has most recently been featured by Halftime Magazine, The Society of Classical Poets, Rue Scribe, and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine. He received his Master's Degree in English Curriculum & Instruction from the University of Missouri. He currently works on the site of a residential treatment facility for juveniles in rural Missouri. He lives in southeast Missouri with his wife and two children.

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