My early admiration
of dawn’s neon vibrancy,
through cold window panes,
on a crystalline morning.
The normal thick traffic
of feathered creatures
which passed across the yard-
absent.
What lay on the ground,
a small bird,
clearly in need of rescue,
its tiny wings semaphoring at me-
someone’s abandoned child.
In time, I healed it without naming it,
and on the day of its release
wondered to where it might now fly.
And although present time is unique,
thus, it is so for later days
my hope, that some echo of kindness
will fly into my future.
This is paid back yearly,
when my plumaged friend
returns each Spring,
and peeks through
my clear window,
and waves at me.
Beautifully Broken
I dreamt last night,
but never slept,
unfolding my story
as loose images,
without plot,
without resolution,
trancing along to the blur
of the ceiling fan above me.
The woeful shatter
of my soul,
felt and heard,
above the dissonant void
of this room,
as relevant tears.
I, beautifully broken.
Both the poems are beautiful, and wonderfully woven. Kudos dear poet.
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