Frozen beauty | branch, sparrow, winter, bird

Ah, my dear fool, you would not

fly south for the winter.

You would not go with those

to whom you belonged.

No matter how long they waited for you,

you ignored their call.

And you chose, instead,

to put your faith in the short-lived

kindness that was spread

by the hands of strangers,

Knowing from experience how

the days make their

charity thin.

Yet thrilling at the feeling

of the cold and the

way the snow might

melt away, however temporarily,

at the attention of someone

unfamiliar to you.

And besides, the others had

always found their way

back to you from the

warm climate where

they over-wintered.

Found their way back to you

and accepted you, once again,

as their own.

Perhaps you were innocent,

unaware that it would not always be so. And yet,

somewhere in your small heart

you must have known

such treachery can not go unpunished.

And somehow, instinct must have

warned you of a long winter coming,

when crumbs from

the fingertips of almost acquaintances

would no longer be enough,

when pity would dry up before

the spring came.

And so there, under the eaves of a stranger’s warm house,

your brethren,

who once had loved you,

would find, crushed under the ice,

you: the sparrow.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

These are things that must be said and deeds that must be done, that can’t be said or  done anywhere else.  This is for figuring things out, because puzzles must be solved.  And life is the biggest puzzle of all, isn’t it?


10 thoughts on “About

      • it was entirely my pleasure to read them… i loved your poems..they are adorable and captivating… keep writing… 🙂

      • Thank you again and again! You’ve been very kind in liking my posts (and commenting…which makes me so excited!), I hope I can continue to live up to being adorable and captivating! You have set the bar for me!

  1. I agree about life being the greatest puzzle of all. It reminded me of a quote I once shared on my blog.

    “Children and lunatics cut the Gordian knot which the poet spends his life patiently trying to untie.” – Jean Cocteau

    Keep writing. Lovely work.

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