PROGRAM NOTES
This piece was in part inspired by the play, The Will by Sandra Seaton:
“Peach Orchard Hill. I still dream about it. Nothing but death everywhere. In front of me, in back of me. Before we left that day, I looked down one more time. Saw things again, the way I hadn't seen them before. A patch of flowers, ol' teacup blue. I could see it, feel it. That little bit of life.”
TEXT
THE FIRST BLUEBIRD IN THE MORNING
The first bluebird
In the morning
Flew over the barbed wire. Flew in then out Again and again
Over the barbed wire.
I see you, Blue Bird. I see you.
Dressed for your flight with your blue feathers and your long wings.
Here in the joint. Here in this place.
There’s a definite routine.
A certain time
A gray time
A time to get up
A gray time
A time to get dressed. March to the kitchen.
To knead the bread. Here In the joint.
Here Here
I see you, Blue Bird Dressed in your finery. I see you. Your wings are long.
Come morning, come morning I'll shed these gray clothes Come morning. My time is up.
I’ll find my good suit, wash my own clothes, Bake my own bread
Come morning. Come morning. Come morning.
Come morning We’ll fly away.
Copyright Sandra
Seaton2021
Duration: 5 min