News

The finches set a course across the water
Alice looks up
Knuckles greasy and bared
Maybe they are delivering the mail
Little notes of swirling news
I sit still
Shimmer and groan as if I am melting
The wind chime knocks upon the window
Short notes
Like oaths
We have to find the signs
Measure the beats
Short wantings rarely spared
We take a seat on the curb
Look up to the skies
Try and remember the path the finches took
It is good to be outside
We wish for cool air and a steady hand
All the better to write with.