Harringay, Haringey - So Good they Spelt it Twice!
The Boss-of-my-Garden
The Boss-of-my-Garden
The blackbird Boss-of-my-Garden is gone
A thief came in the night
and not knowing, I strolled out into my morning garden
the dew already burnt off the grass
and there he was
his corpse bloodied
his death by cat torture revealed
flies already settling by his yellow beak
his glossy black feathers
spat out around the lawn.
And nearby two other bodies
I check the nest and it is empty,
up-ended and now I see it all
the cat, the nest and his desperation
to defend his chicks
ended here.
No more to perch
on my little crab apple tree,
head cocked, worm in beak
ready to dive into the ivy, to the hidden nest.
Or to jump into the bird bath
fluttering his wings, his ablutions a daily ritual.
Or, as I once saw, to chase
the wood pigeon three times his size,
from his tiny lawn territory.
Your brown mate pecks around,
round and round she goes, without purpose
not knowing what else to do, where to go.
You are gone, gone, gone
and my garden feels your absence
and mourns.
AM
May 30th 2009
The blackbird Boss-of-my-Garden is gone
A thief came in the night
and not knowing, I strolled out into my morning garden
the dew already burnt off the grass
and there he was
his corpse bloodied
his death by cat torture revealed
flies already settling by his yellow beak
his glossy black feathers
spat out around the lawn.
And nearby two other bodies
I check the nest and it is empty,
up-ended and now I see it all
the cat, the nest and his desperation
to defend his chicks
ended here.
No more to perch
on my little crab apple tree,
head cocked, worm in beak
ready to dive into the ivy, to the hidden nest.
Or to jump into the bird bath
fluttering his wings, his ablutions a daily ritual.
Or, as I once saw, to chase
the wood pigeon three times his size,
from his tiny lawn territory.
Your brown mate pecks around,
round and round she goes, without purpose
not knowing what else to do, where to go.
You are gone, gone, gone
and my garden feels your absence
and mourns.
AM
May 30th 2009
Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Old-Age-Emporium(OAE) on
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Glyn of the Safer Neighbourhood Team. I think he may be on holiday at the moment - but I see you've already contacted the local police.
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Permalink Reply by Sapphireblue on
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this is confusing... I contacted them about the chopped roses - not the dead blackbird - different discussion....
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Yep, and that invisible worm was after your rose petals, not your blackbird - unless, of course, s/he was "the worm that turned".
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Permalink Reply by matt on
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For weeks now we have had a pair of robins nesting in our ivy. They put up with my family going in and out of the garden, danced around us, flitting here and there, always busy. It's been an absolute joy.
No more. The baby robins are dead.
If you've got a cat, put it on a leash. Our bird populations are getting decimated. Keep your cat inside or don't have one at all. Otherwise you, not the cat, are responsible for our declining wildlife. -
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Yes, folks. Nature, she's lovely but red in tooth and claw. Just like American presidents. Obama can beautifully quote the Talmud, Q'uran and New testament in praise of peace one day but take out half a dozen Somali pirates the next. Or it may just be that what to us are beautiful notes emanating from our very own pear tree just irritate the hell out of any sensitive cat.
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