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Showing posts from April, 2018

Cornered Bird.

One morning the Little Bird awoke. Still, the trees. Still, the seed on the ground. But the sky- he noticed the sky… Felt, Different. Or maybe it was he, Who could see himself less clearly, In this patch of the Great Quilt. Where would he fly, If not here? That cloud, This bend of earth and wind, Seemed to outline him in a way that felt less like a hold, And more like a shove. Could other birds see? Or was it just, he… To work! This is home. This is the place that… is… known. Then why? Does it seem to pull? This “sky”. Why, Am I so small, then yet, able to fly, If not to follow the sky? He stood on the brim of his nest. The sun whispering over the edge of the world. The wind battering at his little bird heart. To write it all down. To jump, Soar, Start.