Trembling Bird Winter It Was Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Trembling Bird
Winter It was
And cold it was
And dusk came
And grew
As other dusks in cold
Then
The pitch-black filament of night
She lay trembling
Off her perch falling
And she had blue lips
And no wavering beak
But eyes half-open and half-closed.
Slow
Slow not sudden was the end
And that the crueller:
She lived so much in pain!
Yet pain to her was joy
And suffering wisdom was
And end.
A passing
A passing with eyes
Half closed
Half open.