Mar 20
Next time I wake from sleep
for keeps – from deepest, darkest
slumber – I may come back a little
bird to visit in the summer; my
quetzal pomp, green feathered
grace, singing through my hunger –
when I am gone, I may come back
your pretty bird, a wonder.
Marsha Singh
Written by
Marsha Singh
         Melissa S, B, Ravindra Nayak, Triste, Orenda Tinderheart and 107 others
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