BirdA Poem by TonyActually... this is what I would call a prayer. It is for my nephew, Ian. Who is changing for the better, as you read. Enjoy!
The boy is moving, slowly moving,
beneath the brush, down by the dirt. His knees are skinned, his voice is sweet, His ears are open and alert. He cups his hands in the springbox, Giant pine, mirrored sky. The ancient Owl invisible, Captured in blue eyes. He knows the song of the meadowlark, He listens, waits, and then; he casts an eerie sound, It glides slowly, on the wind. A smiling chipmunk rides in his pocket. Along with some pebbles and dirt. Elusive motion among afternoon shadows. His name is Ian, but I call him Bird. © 2011 TonyAuthor's Note
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15 Reviews Added on December 29, 2010 Last Updated on January 1, 2011 AuthorTonyMexico...... Tan LejosAboutI am a guy, 49. I am spirit residing in a carbon based life form. The god I know can be found in motion and rest. I live in Mexico because it's very free, and community still means something. .. more..Writing
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