BLUEBIRD
Where qualms converge
The gray-tipped wings
Of a heart's bluebird
Twitch, falter . . . flutter.
Captive no longer,
Sought refuge by choice,
Preens for a much-anticipated
Flight.
Sleeps, now, rests its head.
Tucks its beak
Into its delicate breast.
And waits . . .
Waits . . .
Waits.
The gray-tipped wings
Of a heart's bluebird
Twitch, falter . . . flutter.
Captive no longer,
Sought refuge by choice,
Preens for a much-anticipated
Flight.
Sleeps, now, rests its head.
Tucks its beak
Into its delicate breast.
And waits . . .
Waits . . .
Waits.
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/a4/90/fe/a490fe3ed9ee4c7c3556a24dfbc242d0.jpg
No comments:
Post a Comment