He dabs and bows his head, a dapper chap who cheeps about each day to twit and feed. He flaunts, and hops and leaves without a map. – Some weeks it seems he left or took a nap. But soon as hope he pops around for seed, and dabs and bows his head: a dapper […]
Read more "The Dabbler"
The little bird that flies beneath the puffed up sky owns the gift of life and the pleasure of God’s eye.
Read more "The Little Bird that Flies"
That bird’s reflection seems to wave and wing from other worlds a ripple fold of ancient hope and crystaled good (though far away)
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They skip by tripping over water extending beaks like legs in dance, then twirling upward on the windsea borne along till touch again – They twist in wind gusts, dip in wave troughs beaks catch darts of silver sleeks. freespin breezeward, riding wing sails. Sky swirl dancers of the sea
Read more "Feather Step"