I walked
A wooded lane
Bathed in
Dappled light
A bird flew
Into my hand
I held it gently
Felt the wild
Beating heart
Against my palm
The soft feathers
Over the small
Warm body
Admired the deep
Black of his eye
Then the tiniest
Scratch on my skin
As he sprang
Into flight
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
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