This Bird, This Metaphor Comments

Somber. Horizon bending haze of dusty life drifting off every word. I could only wish I was standing on a dirt road squinting into the sunset reading these lines, slapping my hat against my thigh in time to the countdown of my own heart. Bravo.

gray-coated morning, afternoon. this runs so smooooooth, Ben. like, put it to music - & it erupts to life. care, sjg

Poetry IS a bird with one wing! I guess the way forward is to make it happy enough to sing if it can't fly free. I hear you singing here - you're flying!

I like the gray mood of this one. No bird is free even from the prison of the sky. Very touching, Ben. Take care. Warm regards, Sandra