Bird Of The Small Hours. Poem by Cheryl McDonnell
Bird Of The Small Hours.
Rating: ★5.0
When the air was silent
And the trees slept still
No wind a whispering
It’s sullen winter chill
A song cuts the silence
Into ribbons of hope
Dancing in the crescent’s light
Keeping me afloat.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: silence,winter
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8/29/2026 8:44:07 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Dear fellow Cheryl. In your poem you don't mention any bird (only in the Title) . But I can hear it, flying and singing. Thanks for sharing. I give it high a grade. And I offer you my poem I offer to you my new poems THE OTHER BIRD, EROS-PTEROS. You may grade them (or other poems you may like) . Thanks Joseph Josephides (Member of the Intern.Society of Poets(ISP, ILP awarded)