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red feathered bird
November 19, 2017
and that was it
songbird sprung from the window
harp-lungs twitching and itching to sing
not to me, no, no more
red feathered bird
Goodbye
and maybe we’ll pass each other
in new lives
and don’t think it was bad
the way you sang and the way I watched
because I know that birds don’t live on windowsills
not today
but tommorow
I’ll turn around
to sounds of doves and red feathered birds
out on the fence
outside my window
in the wind,
you’ll remember me, maybe, maybe.
© Tina W., Fresh Meadows, NY
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