Little Verdin in the Desert Willow by kenne
Little Verdin in the Desert Willow
A tiny pulse of feather—
among the Willow’s green—
the Sky—so dark a Sapphire—
it swallows what is seen—
He flickers—like a secret—
the Morning will not tell—
and leaves the hush of Desert—
more infinite—and still—
Thank you, Kenne, for the beautiful poem and the little bird that inspired your words.
Joanna
You’re welcome.