Saturday, May 2, 2009

The song that's sung

The birds are confused. It's 3:30 am and they're singing. Maybe they want the sun to come out and maybe they're just calling for the worms. Sometimes you can be too early. Timing is key. If you don't pick the right time to sing you might end up with nothing but the moon and the stars and the empty space that goes in between. Humans are lucky. They deliver pizza all night long.

Speak easy,


Robin said...

Hi Neil -- Your latest blog entry is a beautiful prose poem. I was asleep at 3:30 a.m. so didn't hear birds singing on the Cape.

Jim said...

Barrel of Lawl.