Emptiness

Damn birds
damned lusty birds,
it's Springtime
and I've been waiting
all winter long for... what?

I admit it, I've misplaced
my sense of irony this early
in the morning,

God and her one-woman show
never can get that
"Is That All There Is?"
song right,

and every bird-brain knows that tune
but me,
I've been too busy molting,
learning how to fly with borrowed time,
that juicy worm
still in the apple,

the Eve of me,
pretending
to be a serpent
from hell,
I make small chirping sounds

but it's Summer now
and sometimes when hell freezes
over empty nests
the worms crawl out,

find their way to this Poem.