Bluebird

Every morning I remember

that little bluebird who came through my door

perched in my bedroom

and whistled me her wisdom;

Her touch, the weight

the feel of her against the meat and bone

of my shoulder

her touch, as she nuzzled

into the soft of my beard

and whistled me her wisdom;

We both flit about now

at the will of our own wraiths

still, every morning I think of her

feel her, her small hollow hands

like ghosts still lay over my shoulders

and I whistle to myself

her wisdom

Reviews

[Relic]

Wow! This is great. I used to have a squirrel that would sit on my shoe and eat the nuts I'd feed him. He graduated to my lap shortly after.

[JR]

It's awesome to have that connection to nature. Those little animals remind us of perspective.