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:
looking forward to your poetry post mum
Kd found a baby lizard last night - it was tiny.
xxx
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