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.
xo
H
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