The sun beats down on her
She is surrounded by nostalgic colors
Warm browns and cool reds
Her skin glows in the dim
A sense of love surges through me
If man could grow wings she would have them outstretched
Ivory feathers falling to the pavement
Freezing in the puddles of fall
The rosary on her neck she rips off and it falls to beads
It scatters along with the feathers
And her hair flips, elongating
It reaches her knees
Her nails are pointed and her legs are clean
The embodiment of a bird’s song, she stretches her neck and it’s music
Somewhere in the distance, a church bell rings
I disappear, and the woman remains
More beautiful than a flying, singing,
Lady bird.