on the wires

they sit;
high above the rooftops

just barely above

the clouds - I squint my eyes - they are
but
dots on a line;

I can barely see them and yet,

I know what they are, and I know
what they can do - the window
frames them as so -

It is getting colder - I feel it
in the air; it will be time to return home

soon

and
I will do so grudgingly -

but for now,
I watch those specks
and as I do,

I wonder

what it would be like to sit there among them

She speaks in cherry red
Prunus cerasifera
He whispers falling leaves
Amongst the diving wrens.
Happy tears shed every morning
Before the Lyrebird sire
Starts his lone choir

Ashen pine blue, flame trees
Quiet illumination
Sensual body of Autumn

I envy the birds
How they spread their wings
And soar through the sky

Not a thought on their mind
Free to fly far away
Let the wind carry them

But here I am locked
In this small gilded cage
And my wings are clipped