Saturday, 11 April 2020

Black is a compound of many shades (napowrimo2020, day 11)















The air around him flows mysteriously
Heavy with an aura of other-worldly insights
He perches alone, every turn of his neck iconic
Cautious, graphing, reflecting, plotting
The branch he sits, shared only by his love---
He cares no attention, adulation, validation
He is attention himself, his beak and eyes solid,
Mettle---he pecks at his love’s feathers
His thoughts inexplicable, what can my colours
Capture other than his feathers, eyes and beak?    
   


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