When I first started writing about the robin, I only used words. I love to listen to them sing and chirp when there are several together in the afternoons. I like watching their little red breast when fluttering in flight. Thank God for the birds.
bird, soft red breast, fly, God music, life , light air song, listen, flight name happy
Laura
the birds were singing as the early morning light shone through the windows, the rising sun promising a new day, a new chance. she listened to the soft notes of the robins, the sparrows, the soft trill of hope as the night faded and with it her despair.
my chest
turned as red
as the robin
that flew
over us
that thursday.
i craved
an answer
with every bone
in my being.
why would you
hurt me, out
of everyone.
what exists
within me
that triggers
your coffined evilness
to blow up
everything
around you?
i wish anger
painted me
a different color
so it wouldn’t
scorch whoever
walked by me.
mfgm
The bird looked out on the water, white gashes crashed against the cliff, receding like an army, gathering it’s forces again to attack with greater might. The bird’s neck is red, like blood flooding from a victim.
When I first started writing about the robin, I only used words. I love to listen to them sing and chirp when there are several together in the afternoons. I like watching their little red breast when fluttering in flight. Thank God for the birds.
bird, soft red breast, fly, God music, life , light air song, listen, flight name happy
the birds were singing as the early morning light shone through the windows, the rising sun promising a new day, a new chance. she listened to the soft notes of the robins, the sparrows, the soft trill of hope as the night faded and with it her despair.
my chest
turned as red
as the robin
that flew
over us
that thursday.
i craved
an answer
with every bone
in my being.
why would you
hurt me, out
of everyone.
what exists
within me
that triggers
your coffined evilness
to blow up
everything
around you?
i wish anger
painted me
a different color
so it wouldn’t
scorch whoever
walked by me.
The bird looked out on the water, white gashes crashed against the cliff, receding like an army, gathering it’s forces again to attack with greater might. The bird’s neck is red, like blood flooding from a victim.