Left Behind

There was something soothing
in the way they danced. It evened out
the rough edges in me, filling a void
with something, anything.

The breeze caught one, and it
twirled with the others,
Continue reading


No Beauty Without Contrast

The sky opened up today,
as it is apt to do when
everything builds up past the
breaking point
and churns over.

Continue reading

Gravity and Other Forces

You’re falling.
And as you tumble, there is
A fraction of a second,
A fractured moment,
Continue reading

When Silence Was Better

There is a moment that you can’t take back,
When fear rides atop anticipation
Through the currents of air
That navigate the room. Continue reading

Every Easter

Do you know the feeling you get
When you eat too many
Jelly beans? That massive rock
That rests heavily in your stomach,
Doubling you over in a mild
Discomfort – an unpleasantness
Almost unique. Continue reading

Looking Back

The secrets of light can dance
in many ways, revealing everything
and the many paths through
memory. Continue reading

Darkest of Jungles

There is a crack in my foundation.
There has to be;
I refuse to believe that I left myself open.
Somehow a seed found its way inside me,
Wriggling through the crack, Continue reading

Reflections on a Cloud of Smoke

It was a quiet evening, cold and dark. I was approaching my building carrying the night’s dinner in a Pizza Hut box. Just off the sidewalk there’s a beat-up picnic table, its graying wood smooth from persistent use. There was a guy on the table, seated on the tabletop with his feet resting on the bench. He wore a heavy jacket and a beanie – his efforts to stave off the cold. As I approached, he blew a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he was smoking, and it drifted into the sidewalk. I walked through it. Continue reading

A Manner of Speaking

The word hangs,
Like mud thrown in slow motion
From a passing car.
And the driver couldn’t care less,
Couldn’t know less
About the significance Continue reading

Our Quiet Place

There is a story of restless hearts
Raked mercilessly into
The cold, granite wall.

Every pore, every crevice Continue reading


Just words


This blog is to inform my mother that I am alive and playing nicely with others while off in the big bad city of Newark, DE

No Friend As Loyal

There is no friend as loyal as a book

Making Space To Breathe

a place for words to go. when i'm listening.

Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.


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