Fledgling Song
Wednesday, December 9th, 2009Snow hit like a wind chime.
Wildness building a nest
in soprano tones, this arctic
woven from the silk of kimonos,
the father of the crane,
bearing red fruit
in his beak for his young.
The way i can’t sleep anymore.
The night whispers to me
fledgling songs:
for the first time
my wish, to stay.
Who needs to be big and strong
to make this flight across […]