Thursday, April 24, 2014

poetry corner pt. 3

I wish I was better

A migrant bird, she searches for home.
Her gold-embellished wings
shadow emerald irises,
slowly rising
with murky water
drifting along the quiet bank.

A brambled bite
rests on her lips,
thirsting for resolution;
"cairn o'mohr,"
the mantra, a ghost, between
budding pink-coloured trees.

That look - the unspoken
sorrow, pierces dewed air
resting between the stone,
cracked along the foundation.

Slipping, swirling,
she loses herself inside
the narrow green glass;
She's Alice in Never Never Land
flailing through fact and fantasy.

Captivating, mesmerizing,
the bird knows her name
and relaxes amidst the chaotic
time capsule, her lover guarding 
her foreign heart.


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