Mother told me she was writing, she
grinned and read enthusiastically from her
notepad, “Love is like a bird, love is who you
are, ” and I cringed into a smile, loving
my bird-like mother for wandering into herself.
“Little lovelost dove, ” I crooned
into a fake microphone to a World
craving poetry and truth
and armed for pain and lies. “The essence of life is…”
I only need
to feel poetic, chirped the birdgirl,
kissing goodbye the fencepost between youth
and wisdom,
taking off into the heavy blue wind,
feathers blending in with the clouds,
as she flew to nowhere in the sky.
wow, i would love to fly with the bird, poetic bird. keep this up there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the last lines - i'm assuming youre describing your ownself and actions. was drawn to this not by the title but by the dialog and the birdgirl. Sus