Friday, 17 September 2010

Preening a poem

Nouns, verbs!
Time to sing,
escape your cage

and break away

like when a young bird, at evening,
floats up high, flaps and reaches
fully feathered, turns and looks to land.

Hold that instant

as the same but seeking,
rolling, now alighting
on a hand before you
rhyme or fall, beat
in time, lift and sing
and, once more, call and fly.

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