Plumage of gold and green/ Saturated color, only in dreams/ She flies above my winter bed/ A ribbon tangled round her head/ Beauty’s song is muted now/ Yet so pure and eloquent/ I try to catch her, hold her down/ I need to know what her song meant/ Of Avian Bondage © SusanTMartin’23
Monthly Archives: December 2023
The Inside Voice
“I must fight the lies my mind whispers to me…”
