“No Poem Today” by Birdie D. Stringfellow


The mockingbird startled me while I tried to write a poem. I became lost and my brain quit churning like butter gone sour. All thoughts slipped away and neurons collided like ships crashing into icebergs.

The mockingbird laughed at me. I did not laugh back. The poem was destroyed and I cried for its return.

I heard the screaming inside my head. If not for that, I would have thought I was dead. But poems do not die. This one would be back, safely tucked away in my gray matter for now, after the flying creature departed. I would have to wait. No poem today.