morning birdsong
photoart and poem – ©2018 Laura Granby

It begins with Vigils
a sliver of sotto voce inserted into silence
monks intoning, muted and monotonic
mouths barely moving in momentum
communion words converge
stream an omnipresent OM
through oscines in Matins murmurings
rippling onward ’til a raucous rooster
assents the choral crescendo

Late for Monday Matins with 44 words for De’s Quadrille: Murmur but still in time for the Imaginary Garden’s Tuesday Platform


  1. I love the vocal tenor of this, plainsong rising and falling, intoning an old bell. “Oscines,” great word to add to my psaltery! Matins are my magic hour – 4 a.m. every morning — with the night for fellow brethren.


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