Today's poem is by Michelle Bitting

No One Told Me About the Death
       

About the nest gone quiet under the roof.
The birds muzzled, eyes smeared shut
And an army of ants marching
Through their sockets, clasped like purses.
Muzzled birds, our eyes smeared shut.
As children, sometimes it felt like that.
Sockets clasped like purses,
Flying into the wired adult world.
It felt hopeless sometimes.
Even on Christmas morning
When wired, we'd fly to their adult world,
Eager to hatch our eggs, the ribbons and tinsel.
On Christmas morning,
They perched on the couch like two birds
And watched us hatch our ribbons and tinsel.
Mother fed us pie, father, seeds of grief.
Birds on a couch, a wire, they waited
To feel filled up
With more than pie and seeded grief.
We ate ourselves in silence.
Like birds muzzled, eyes filling up
The purses of our sockets
As armies of ants silently ate us
Under the roof of our nest gone quiet.

Copyright © 2025 Michelle Bitting All rights reserved
from What the House Knows
Terrapin Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission