melissaahowells
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little little bird
are you confused it is not Spring the tree limbs are now barren breezes blow brisk and cold yet you've risen untimely from the earth all alone bright speck of yellow amid the growing grey yesterday's sun warmed the air zephyrs teased the ground warming it yet today the last leaves flutter brown flurries falling to the ground clouds fill with traveling geese and speak of pending rain little little bird I've noticed you you are foolish to hope for the implausible but when fools dare to believe in the possible a growing tickle touches the corners of my mouth and I smile written in Spring of 2018, I know not when specifically and chance directed me to it in one of my notebooks LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 8.25.19 1:56 PM PST AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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