Thursday, June 4, 2009

An Instant

The week was long without you.

There is always this tension

Like watching a bird teeter back and forth

On a line above the garden.

I wonder to myself but I don't say it:

Will she stay?

Will she fall?

Will she fly away?

If I held out my hand, might she fly to me,

Perch for an instant on my finger,

Hesitate or linger... 

Even if she lit and flew away

I would have that instant



© Anne 2008....

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