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Midnight Bird Haunts

Branches like bars separate me from skies birds in flying alight Sung out of this feathered corset — each tongue tight, for night's Unseen way up — alone, lay me down with my unseen streak Their skeleton unlike my wings; God, they sing — Eyes nest nowhere — I remember morning by heart Red chested, I'm blinded by the percussions who can see dark —

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 4/21/2025 3:56:00 PM
That first verse is a wow and how it depicts them as caged. Thanks for seeing so many of my poems recently
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Date: 4/19/2025 1:10:00 PM
This is outstanding, Paige. Your imagery of the caged bird is remarkable! I think it is one of the best things you have written. Strong metaphor that jumps off the page. If this is for a contest, best wishes! Easter blessings of joy to you!
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Date: 4/18/2025 8:14:00 PM
you have the rare and delicate skill of allowing your expressions to transcend the pettiness of religion, politics, hatred, that so often permiates the work of others - paige, this is pure emotive experience -
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Date: 4/14/2025 1:47:00 AM
A beautiful poem, so smoothly written. Great imagery.
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Date: 4/11/2025 1:49:00 PM
I love the deep feelings running through your well woven poem dear sweet paige! I hope you are doing well! Iv missed reading you and its so good to read this today, one that is as always flowing so effortlessly with such abstract metaphors! Theres so much depth in your descriptive wordplay! I felt this Pleasure reading your poem today! Sending you light always
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Date: 4/9/2025 5:04:00 PM
wow...a slew of descriptive images rules this poetic wall , paige...' feathered corset' so unique! huggs
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Date: 4/9/2025 9:41:00 AM
Trapped whether by branches, corset, skeleton…then the imagery of red chested, blindness, percussion. Excellent emotive writing, dear Paige.
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Date: 4/9/2025 6:42:00 AM
Dear Paige, Welcome Back! I love how your word claws at the cage of night and those branch-bars holding back flight, yet birthing song from the unseen. I feel the ache of wings that aren’t wings, of a red chest drumming against dark’s percussions. You’ve captured the paradox of being both caged and free, blind yet seeing deeper into morning’s memory. Such haunting beauty of unbelonging. Spring Blessings, My Dear Friend, Daniel
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