On a Full Moon

The wings have been torn. She falls to the ground. Transformation ensues. Her agony found. Thick English ivy hinders her song. Now wounded, she's hiding Like she's done all along. The enemy's spotted, at least in the depths of this infested garden, Hurt is hard to forget. Cold winds again blowing. She's dropped from the sky. Doubts rising, Fear soaring. Still yearning to fly. So, she finds her solution the way she knows how. Retreating. Defeating her disquietude now. It should have been buried but she couldn't let it die. The full moon was out and maybe that's why.