03.28.17

because you once said,
i am like a baby bird,
that i am fragile and easily
broken.

but that i will one day be
resilient enough to fly,
with my own two
wings.

but until i learn and grow,
under your wings i must
take shelter.

for your covering,
it keeps me
safe.

because under the shield of their mother bird’s wings, baby birds don’t need knowledge of what’s happening outside of them.
(because i don’t need to know the whole picture yet.)

03.28.17

01.26.17

Today I found something I scribbled in a notebook maybe a year ago. I’m not the biggest fan of the end, but thought I’d share:

because you linger in my mind like an autumn leaf clinging with childlike fingers to a tawny spine, or a memory, whose thought it so sublime and whips, that I’m afraid it will flutter passively away on the slightest of blustery fall afternoons // so if you would just let me rest in your shadow, in the cap of an acorn, blanketed in the morning fog and cobwebs, until the next breeze, take it all in, do as we please.

01.26.17