Wednesday, March 14, 2018

STEEL



There is, there was, a metal bird
That wants me to remember it.
It was part of a balance toy
Of a sort once popular. A touch
Would set it moving. Sometimes
It moved when no hand came near
And no breeze blew. Memory,
Reaches for it, asks it to trace
One more perfect circle on the air.

No comments:

Post a Comment