A Bird, a continuation

A bird was lying on the ground,
no life, no motion.
I wonder if it's a carefully sculpted figurine.
But finally I noticed
it's still breathing,
its chest heaving
a bit too fast.
Maybe death's come to her.

I extend my hand to her
My hand extends to her
Hovering above those once supple feathers
and now lifeless eyes
The fixed stare of death piercing
the pathetic shield of the hand
sniggering away at life
O I am unable to touch her
her, about to disintegrate into the earth underneath
my hand, now brown and dull, already resembles it too

and so my hands,
or are they mine?
carelessly brushes against its motionless body,
it suddenly crumbles into stardust,
carried away by a swirl of wind,
not a trace
all happens too fast,
except for my heart,
that fails to remind itself to beat,
and the fear,
that now sits so tight in my throat,
until it can no longer hold,
and bursts into whimpers.
the shape of my hand morphing,
as if a dream ageing,
all that remains,
is the vision of the bird,
reforming,
into its beautiful being before it ceases to be


评论/留言

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作者：Jady　　时间：2004-11-26 17:49:54

i changed it from prose to a poem-oid thing, dunno if it''s worse, better, or just different...continue~~~~~

Judu 在 Jady 的文章中回复道：
that''s great stick!
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