Monday, August 1, 2022

Red

 

Red  

 

whenever he flies by  

I hope he'll fly to my hand  

 

I want to kiss his red beak  

gently stroke his red wings  

stare into his brown eyes  


* * * * *

 

my hair  

his wings  

 

different shades of red  

 

may be the cause  

of my bias toward handsome  

vibrantly red cardinals  






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Hands Are Full

  petrichor   heavy in the air   fills our hands