mervin

Try though we might,
we cannot teach the caged bird to sing,
the silver bells
the cuttle stone
dainty mirror
seed treat
a satin tether, for hand feeding.

Try though we might,
we cannot teach the caged bird to sing,
the impetus of Bach,
Brahms,
carefully administered liberties,
these are not enough
to bring melody
to the hushed throat.

And so we find
the gilt door left open,
And so we find
that mortal eyes may not distinguish
plate glass from open air,
and so we find
a sweet plum heart
may be stout as well as tender,
stout enough to burst itself in struggle
to be loose on the wind.

So have we found.
So has the caged bird taught us,
to sing.