tagNon-Erotic PoetryFlues : curmudgeon

Flues : curmudgeon


each time
the bird circles high in the azure skies,
He takes another turn    
His nerves shot,
the bird is landing,  what sees, eyes
little squeals of delight,

                                    cantankerous , raucous calls
of the shrikes

amidst it all He spies the
bird on a wire ,
stretched taut, yearning,
coming in ,
waiting as all would
slowly finding

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byRazzRajen© 4 comments/ 2212 views/ 0 favorites

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