A Bird’s View


A Bird’s View

I’m listening to footsteps,
your limp in midst of pain,
paced weariness, on and on.

Obliged to walk, you dwellers
of narrows. Booted. Heeled.
But I fly – an exquisite outcast

from your gimping path.
And I am forever passing
and repassing your bridges,

never stopping on a fine
evening. You toil listless
steps, as I look down,

as my world grows wider
and wider, beyond seas,
as vast as rest to come. 

And I listen to footsteps,
dull and slow and sluggish
as a heavy load drowning.







For Margo Tryout (Wings/Birds/Flying)
inspired by Bleak House, Charles Dickens


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