For the birds

For the birds

Attack has all the glory.

Loud solos trilled

From tops of trees.

But defence is all,

Defence is key,

And without it

You’ll see us

Beheaded and bleeding,

Tossed aside on the path,

Just results of a game.

Fledglings learn the deeper drill,

That flight and fight

Can sing aloud

In every voice –

Harsh, pretty, coarse.

Maidens must march,

And soar and score,

And learn the happy truth –

That to protect each other

Is to protect ourselves.

RF 2018

I suppose this poem (new today) reflects recent events (both home and away) - a dawn chorus walk, lots of time outside, a continuing obsession with music, the Irish referendum and even a football match. Our heads are so full... poems are one way to release some pressure (I find).