12 Days 4 the Birds

 

Twelve Days of Christmas was a risk.

I mean, I should know.

 

Here it is twelve days of poetry

and if someone

I thought of as my true love

had given me all those birds

to take care of, I’d be like,

“who’s paying for their rent, their food, their schooling?

Who hatched this plan?”

 

Seven swans a-swimming.  Who’s going to clean the pool?

 

Six geese a-laying.  As if I know what to do? Do I look like an avian midwife?

 

Four calling birds.  Do they ever keep quiet?  I’ve had four kids; this is an important question.

 

Three French hens.  At this point I would need a nice glass of wine or three, so maybe…

 

Two turtle doves.  Is it a turtle?  Is it a dove? I don’t need these questions.

 

One partridge in a pear tree.  I remember that Partridge Family show.  All that musician drama.  And apparently the father was supposed to have “died,” but now I’m wondering, did he fake his own death?

 

So, I’d say, love, you gambled and lost.

 

You can keep your five golden rings,

this is (four-letter-word) the birds.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner

 

 

PAD 12:  write a risky poem

NaPoWriMo 12