The Little Birds

May 14, 2011
By Vidra PLATINUM, Midlothian, Virginia
Vidra PLATINUM, Midlothian, Virginia
46 articles 17 photos 89 comments

Favorite Quote:
“I write only because
There is a voice within me
That will not be still.”
-Sylvia Plath


There is a small, clean incision,

Of a circle right above my heart.

And sometimes when I’m drifting in and out of dreams,

Day or night,

Passion drips from it.

Little fluttery birds come,

And collect the magic elixir.

They say grace,

Then scramble out of my window,

To preserve the succulent nectar.

Branches of trees sway in anticipation,

And the sun peeks over

To see what the fuss is about.

The winged creatures stretch their wings

With hope of a new day.

My passion is stored in little bottles,

Hidden in the shadow-filled spaces of their trees.

And every night the birds come back,

To say hello.

I share with them a little part of me,

To keep and treasure,

Since no one else seems to understand,
As well as they do.



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