Thoughts that won’t fly
Are stuck in my head
As if bricks, not feathers, adorn them instead.
Their wings have been clipped
To prevent them from soaring
And all that i’m left with is the flat taste of boring.
“A little bird told me”, but I can’t quite recall
Its song or its message or the gist of it all.
That little bird flew off and took with it my words
Now I’m left without memory of what I just heard.
How do thoughts escape when they’ve no wings to fly
Except to be carried off by that little bird in the sky.
If’ I’m lucky, that little bird will come back again
And give back my thoughts, put them back where they’d been.
Maybe thoughts will form words that allow me to write
And join with the birds, once again taking flight.
But for now, I will wait for my words, for my thoughts
And smile at the little bird if he comes or does not….
