Wednesday

Dinner With Mr. Bird.



The bird whispered to me, “please come along”
I pick up my braid and book and follow.
Through the woods, my toes touch pine cones.
The sound of leaves crunching under my feet excite me.
My braid drags behind me, while butterflies find a new home.
Fresh, new and white: their new home.
Trees surround us and flowers sing.
Gently, the breeze takes my voice away.
Along the river bend I can see a bearded man.
He reaches down and catches a fish.
Handing it over to me he says, “lunch for us three”
Mr. Bird gathers some berries, while I look for the mint.
The bearded man started a fire, to cook our fish.
Together we mix our ingredients and enjoy.
Nothing matters at this point in time.
The Earth stopped spinning.

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