POEM A DAY 6: Silently the birds fly through us
“…Silently the birds fly through us.”
We did not begin here, you and me –
hence, this forest is still fresh with magic;
ferns are tiny breaths,
nightflowers are harlequins,
trees shake loose the stars,
our voices flutter and swoop;
we are innuendo.
and the birds, silently the birds fly
Almeda Glenn Miller is a Rossland-based writer, performer, and teacher.