By a fence line in the damp green of the morning
a hawk by gifted vision caught a wren.
There underneath his claws she learned the sense behind the laws
and she'll never by the fence line sing again.
In the evening by the fence line lay her feathers
which I gathered up to weave a tiny dress.
Stars said, "No, it cannot fit," but I whispered love to it
and by daylight I stood head to toe in yes.
By the fence line in the damp green of the morning
I made from apple wood a mandolin
to play the hawk a tune, oh aren't you pretty as the moon
and at his touch I felt the answer sinking in.
______
shared with Desperate Poets Open Link.
Oh WOW! Beautifully written, and such a gut-punch at the end. Superb writing.
ReplyDeleteHow long was this moulting in your forced layoff? Some odd little things should be handled like sharps, else we're done in by dim little birdbrains. I got chills from this. Next week's challenge pecks at the same plumage.
ReplyDeleteIt was moulting for a goodly while. Birds are a favorite theme, so I am looking forward to next week!
DeleteMy god. That is exquisite. This just killed it: “I stood head to toe in yes” and “at his touch I felt the answer sinking in.”
ReplyDeleteLove the beautiful ending, and I also love your taglines! They're like a poem in themselves! :-)
ReplyDelete