She plucks the ground with claws of ochre,
and pecks it – daintily – for worms.
She thus maintains her girlish figure,
so careful how she keeps her form.
She’s watchful of her patch of sidewalk,
the passing shoes exalt her peril.
She flutters, only to return,
her brief escape so quickly spurned.
She hops right into golden sunshine,
her feathers cast in different light.
Her task continues, to the right,
resolve unshaken, almost feline.
She looks around – so watchfully! –
while shining with an umber sheen.
365 Sonnets is completed! While there be no more new posts, feel free to read the sonnets and comment! :)
You can read my new poetry at Some Turbid Night: http://someturbidnight.blogspot.ca/ :)
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