Winding
my way home…
Small bird
along the curb
exotic
white and blue
out of place
on unknown
gray concrete and black asphalt
vulnerable
oblivious to cats and cars
and human fingers that scoop
up
the tiny beating heart
nestled in the palm of my hand…
Small bird
spirit
ancient bones of earth
whispers in my ear
the remnants of dreams
where dog and bird
take me places
exotic
unknown
where I am vulnerable
oblivious to cats and cars
and human fingers that scoop me up
the beating of my heart…
Lea
Goode-Harris©
April 2, 2003