A Blackbird on Morning Dew

A blackbird on morning dew
Brews the bubbled notes, drinks in
Cheering over sighs lilting bright
The fright of existing, born
Worn the beaten blackbird, worn

Dried over in afternoon
The grass withers with the tune
Blackbird, earnest, flapping wings
Clouded over notes he sings

Snares of the field, assemble
Night trembles through the thicket
Wicked do not dare to tread
Shred a feathered heart with thorns
Mourn the fallen starling, mourn