Bohemia

In the real Bohemia

Not the Bohemia of drunken poets

White tailed eagles nest

Above the forests and wetlands

In my Bohemia

We play with words and jests

And yes, there’s some tail to be had

Not so much nesting

In the Bohemia of drunken poets

We make early morning returns to forlorn homes

Those not so wet lands

In the real Bohemia

Reed jungles in artful ponds guard predatory worlds

Recovering from excess civilization

In my Bohemia

We indulge our whims

Give in to desires

Naturally

Call me Bohemian

Naturally

 

 

David Trudel     ©  2013

 

 

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