Birds and Fame

I’d often heard my father say

     That fame was like a fleeting bird;

That one could catch birds any day

     With salt upon their tails, I’d heard.

And so, with boyish zeal, I’d try

     To catch them thusly day by day;

Alas! When I approached they’d fly

     Up in the air and far away.

But fame, just fame, if ‘twere a bird

     As I’d heard my father say,

I, with a lump of salt, inferred

     That I could catch him any day.

The years have come the years have gone,

     To capture fame I always fail;

He wings into the air with scorn –

     The salt won’t stick upon his tail.

May 18, ‘09