Birdsong

Sweet mute bird.
The cold season
Stays your tongue
And dampens
The fluttering
In your chest.
Yet you greet each day
With anticipation —
Awaiting
That first performance.

Proposal

If I gave you a thimble, would you give me a needle?
And if I hummed you a tune, would you sing me a song?
On a summer day, in the shade of your presence
I bask in the coolness of your touch
And point our clasped hands toward the sky, to ask:
Now here is our road, would you journey with me forever?

Advertisement