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Poem

In a night,
my flight turned into a storm.
Both rocky and calm,
Full of gusts and minor debris.

Rain pelted me,
The thunder struck behind me,
The wind chilled my body,
I am all alone.

My nest is gone.
My family is gone;
The cat dominated my home.
But now, I am flying.

Flying.

Flying.

Flying.

To the south,
Where warm weather and promise awaits.

The ocean below me is exquisite and powerful,
Under the moon and stars.

The water raging.
The water foaming.

The fish swimming in there schools,
The coral providing homes

Sunlight touched my chilled feathers,
The trees inviting my stay.
I preened and the wind ruffled,

A sound.
Alert.
Twist.
Take off.
I’m scared.
What am I to do?
Where am I to go?

Mountains loomed before me,
A rainbow painted across the sky.
I have to keep going,
I feel I must fly.





My life isn’t mine.
My goal not achieved.
There is more.
I know it.

There’s a house below,
It’s a cabin among the pine trees.
I can dream. . .
For peace, for serenity.

There is a window and a ledge,
A shiny, tiny bell waved on a collar.
A pipe sat on the side table.
The fireplace ablaze with fire.

Love.

Warmth.

Cheep!

The old man looked at me,
The orange tabby did to.

He opened the window,
My feet stayed on the ledge; I backed away.

Tabby looks curious,
Amber eyes a-glow.
He held his finger out,
I felt compelled to remain.

My feathers are still soaked.
He touched my wing.
I moved closer.

A peek at the tabby.
Hop.
Cheep!
Inside the cabin.

I’m calm.
Here I stay.
This is my home.

I play fly tag with Tabby.
I have my place on the fireplace.
I can stay.
Until I have to fly away again.

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