Bird-Thought
There is a bird out there
More silver than light
Flashing its wings in flight
Blurred by a tear.
All evening I watched it
Like a cat playing
With my sisters ball of thread
The sun's face was white
Then turn red before the night.
Such mirth
Is alien to the surface of the earth;
How comes I was like that
Right after birth?
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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