Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2019
Sunday is for birds to sing
and to swing among vines of bedsheets,
for moving hair out of your eyes, to cry
in sadness and joy and feel the warmth of your body.
Sunday is for birds to sing
while we string ourselves into knots
and leave the windows open for spring
to carry the sounds of singing along
I LOVE SPRING
Ed C
Written by
Ed C  22/NYC
(22/NYC)   
365
   Anna-Marie Rose and Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems