poetry & things

To be a bird

Bright chartreuse edged, magenta flowers, with lavender

just beyond in the bee fields of summer, thousands of seeds, days spilling over

planted in early autumn rains, to wait again, dotted in red rows of poppies.

Today no clouds will come

only purple mountains glow, before the sun

beyond these fragrant hills, I wander

watching hawks and sparrows

til the golden day slips away

and I am lost between the space

of night and day, and lose all trivial words

and think how glorious

to be a bird

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