Flight feathers

Flight feathers

A red leaf quivers
among the tangle of twigs,
flies off while the white striped sparrow,
a fleck on the stump,
pecks at the millet and milo.

It's my belief,
that joy gives them wings.

From the other side of the window,
I gape behind drapes,
rest, crouched on the couch,
my flight feathers clipped. I sip
cream sweetened coffee
that churns in my stomach,
wears at my gut,
feeds cancerous thoughts:

oh, to feed
on a meagre portion of grain,
to flex wings.

© Kåre Enga 2008 [164.543] 2008-03-06

18 lines

Original in a blog entry "Flight feathers" .