Melody's Well

How singular to hear a singing bird
     Providing sonic substance on a day
     Distinguished by no other signs of play.
Each note is clear; the song is never blurred—
I do not need to guess at what I heard.
     There is a timeless well of melody
     The songbird draws upon instinctively.
Perhaps the sound means more than empty words
Declared with false conviction and unrest.
     So many speeches are not dignified
         By anything that's pleasant to the ear—
They are an exercise in pride, at best.
     Unlike ourselves, no sparrow ever lied.
         The song is true; that truth is what we hear.

©2016 Michael Fraley

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