Tuesday, 24 February 2009

wings of poetry



I found this one wing under a pile of dry gum leaves. It glistened. What fabulous shimmer of flight. I had to bring it inside. A treasure. Maybe what a writer needs is still that childhood delight of finding something so unexpected, so precious, waiting for the finder's map of discovery. A poem will come.

1 comment:

Pepper Green said...

looking forward to your poetry post mum

Kd found a baby lizard last night - it was tiny.

xxx