walrus.nu

About
Poetry
© 1991 to 2010

In the birdsong, something wistful. Something to shake the blossoms on the branch, then launch off into blue. To coast on the current, flip-switch a wing twist, and dive under branch into shade. Something to mock the glare off a cat, and flit quick from claw and away.
Added @ 06:11 PM to Diary category on April 14, 2003