small words.
like birds. fluttering
at the feeder
at the stone bath.
brown
and fragile.
light coins,
feathered.
how long a life
do we have.
and with whom
in this stretch shared
of short flight
beneath the blue.
tell me.
tell me now, i'm running
short of time.
Friday, August 24, 2018
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment