It's Still Life

A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week

I.
Caged (a haibun)

My sister has a glass display dome, its base supporting a small bare twisted branch, and on that branch are perched 8 stuffed hummingbirds of blazing plumage that drip of scarlet, emerald and purpled blues. Each bird with its glassy eyes, each bird with claws wired to that branch made my soul sickened, succumbed to this flightless prison with no air, where no breeze, no warble and whirl of wings can be made. Eight stuffed spirits crying out for a poetic end from this unfeathered lovelessness

they would sing all night
in the fragrance of older days
meadowlands of wind

written for RDP “Cage”

II. (Three Lines Thursday)

I have touched the hand of peacefulness
its rose-spun strands that rise and wrap
sunrise in a new day and a sky of gems

written for Ink in Thirds “Lakeside” 
(this prompt word cannot be used in the response)

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