Not how many different birds I've seen but how many have seen me, letting the event go unremarked except for the quietest sense of malevolence, dead quiet, then restarting their lives after fear, not with song, which is reserved for lovers, but the harsh and quizzical chatter with which we all get by: but if she or he passes by and the need is felt we hear the music that transcends all fear, and sometimes the simpler songs that greet sunrise, rain or twilight. Here I am. They sing what and where they are. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS WIFE ON THE 16TH ANNIVERSARY OF HER WEDDING DAY, WITH A RING by SAMUEL BISHOP EPITHALAMIUM by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TO ALFRED TENNYSON, MY GRANDSON by ALFRED TENNYSON GRACE AND STRENGTH by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE UNSEEN WORLD by CRAVEN LANGSTROTH BETTS THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 103. WRITTEN AT FLORENCE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |