I watch you pluck a bird out of the sky
as it careens from the heavens.
Your cooing calms its heart to a flutter.
Gentle fingers brush silky down.
Quizzical marble wariness meets soothing gaze.
A smile lights on your lips
as if secrets are being whispered without words.
Suddenly palms up, fingers
reaching to the sun —
And she flies!
Only to fall once more.
Bouncing on sun-baked clay.
No apologies –
you can’t hold on forever.
on broken wing,
hesitant chirps, no louder
than your silent encouragements.
Her silence, a separate language.
She deciphers, you decode
but how will either know
if they interpreted
that which was intended?