Amidst the azure winter freeze
Blew an abandoned disarmed feather
I held her close in the weather
Asked, what’s her business in the breeze?
She flicked her tail in courtesy
Looked East, flapped her golden hair
Pointing towards the lost trail,
She said, she lived there
But soon came a giant hail
To trample her world of fantasy
“I now have plenty towns to roam,
Yet no place to call home
I meet strangers in the alley
And nomads in the valley
They offer to spend the night together
“Beware! There seems to be a cruel weather!”
In figures alien to my shape
I silently seek another me
While they dance around my drape
Asking, Is that she?
My screams scratch the saddle crate
I find bars around my plate
Duplicitous strangers, promised to build shed,
Elevated me on a pleasure dome, instead.
I bowed to the lord who once lived
In the zenith of my Eastern cell
I prayed for one last hail again,
To feed the stranger with dust and rain
I wished for the winds to blow,
and lead them to the Hades below
I called for my foster sister,
Autumn and Spring with brother Winter.
Brother told me, “Fly far away,
It ain’t a place for tender hay”
Alone, abandoned, I flew with the wind
Until I met your callow skin.”
She fed on nuts and cracker
Famished by hunger
While I wonder,
Isn’t the bird a little me?
Her story echoes my journey,
Her fears and fences resonate my worry.
Isn’t she a little me?
Dejected and desolate, my reality?