Just some a whistlin'

art by bluealaris


A slip of a bird just whistled at me
from high in old oak tree
came from high as the city
as brave as a sailor
cussing his way through the seas:

"what pretty hips,
and what summer lips",
this was its melody.

And all the hurt stock
that long held me to dock,
were cut and I was free.

AEM July 2011