Saturday, May 31, 2014

I've been searching for years,
even in slumber, to find it;
I am sleeping for the dream
where you break open the silence
like an eggshell and tell me the answers
to the questions I forgot to ask.

A robin brushes my hair
as she sails to her spot
in the cedar; my particular
browns and greys
are the optimum colors
to camouflage a nest.

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