To the bird lost

Inside the subway tunnel
The frantic bird who’s flying
To and fro
You have forgotten
that the world is open on the outside
That there is endless space
Space that the sky represents
You have forgotten the fresh air
Your little lungs grow spastic
As you tilt your head
Absurdly standing centimeters tall
On a gray subway platform
You have broken my heart, bird
This would have never happened
If we weren’t here
You are God trapped in our small minds
Searching for a way out
You are an embodiment
Of our existence
And that, for human beings
Escape is possible
But improbable

About Sean William Lynch
Sean Lynch is a writer and editor who lives in South Philly. Lynch's first book of poems "the city of your mind" was published in 2013 by Whirlwind Press. Frank Sherlock, the poet laureate of Philadelphia, called Lynch's debut poetry book "visionary." CA Conrad claimed that the book was "marvelous!" His writing has been featured in numerous publications online and in print, including (parenthetical), Poetry Quarterly, and Tincture Journal.

3 Responses to To the bird lost

  1. pembroke5 says:

    This image, and it’s situation,is really powerful. There’s a chance that the bird might be able to live down there for awhile, feeding off scraps and dirty crumbs that people have dropped.

    Alexander Marshall

  2. pembroke5 says:

    The bird is like the people in this city. If it was a pigeon, it could live for awhile on crumbs.

    Alexander Marshall

  3. It’s a been a couple months since I wrote any poems (on to other things) and several since I checked on your blog again, but I was rewarded with this gem. Posted it on facebook to your credit–hope you don’t mind. Your style has reached this lucidity and directness of feeling and image I’d like to think E. Pound would applaud.

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