There’s a bird
There’s a bird, I don’t know her name all the same she’s
resting, and I wait for her always, she makes my day.
There she is so self-contained I find her so amazing.
I don’t compare myself to her, her mind’s less jumbled,
her heart’s different.
I fancy she knows things that I can’t even see
with all my vaunted vision.
I suppose to fly high with my bird, letting go,
keening, soaring, would be fun.
But I’m content with things just as they are. The
sweet arch if her delicate head, her freedom to stay and then to go,
my gratitude. A unity.