Magpie sitting upon, A twisted tree.
Tail feathers,
Wagging at me.
Black contrast,
Against the morning sky.
Blue shimmering,
down side feather,
Catch my eye.
White tarnished glasses,
Mildewed and worn.
Natural ladder,
The bird in the tree.
Awakens the smell,
Of spring in me.
No comments:
Post a Comment