Winged creature – Susie Sweetland Garay

 
Up before the sun
 
on a Sunday morning
 
for some solitude
 
and writing.
 
The sunrise is a bonus
 
I had not considered.
 
 
One animal in and one out,
 
both hunting for whatever
 
captures their interest,
 
resembling streaks of grey
 
more than domesticated animals.
 
 
We are all crepuscular beings and I am glad for them.
 
 
In this blue hour
 
I feel as though
 
all the birds will pray with me,
 
worms will sit with me
 
when I am lonely,
 
listen to me
 
when I sing.
 
 
I do not mind the rain or chill.
 
 
I wish I was a winged creature
 
who could sail above the trees
 
and look down instead of up
 
at the world and sky
 
in all her fickle glory.
 
 
I could be comfortable in the body of a bird.
 
 
We all evolve daily,
 
                         or should
 
if we know what’s good for us.
 
 
From where I sit
 
a bird flies too close
 
to the window,
 
I am momentarily
 
worried for him.
 
But there is no need.
 
 
He is only a beautiful silhouette
 
across the early morning green blue sky.
 
In another life he could have been my brother.
 
But in this one he is only a creature
 
who lives outside my windows.
 
 
 
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