Votes : 0

Wounded Fledgling

Mary McKeone rscj - Tue, Mar 6th 2012



Only a thrush

and rush

of freckled panic

in your hand.


Only a thrush

but hold it tight

till feather and flight

and bone and song

are strong.


Only a thrush

which you could crush

and yet

you stay your hand

and let

it be;

helping, holding,

soft enfolding,

just as God holds  me.


Only a thrush ....

And me ....


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