wildcat

"Please explain a tree,"

I ask, and before

The natural silence of pondering, 

The chirping of thought as woven melodies,

The rotation of gears churning into place,

They sit in the back of the bus,

the shimmer of secrecy ignited in their eyes,

her head in his lap, his hands in her hair,

her lips twisted in that sickening smile. My neck aches 

from looking behind me, and my

She is a lark

ripping the bark

as she takes off.

A missed sight

into the night.

Mother weeps for her.

The lost child

gone in the wind.

And so there were three.

Three thoughts concerning snowflakes. 

She dreamed she could fly

way off into the big blue sky.

All she really wanted

was to leave her worries behind

soar like a hawk

or maybe a dove.

Somedays she was a hawk

and others a mourning dove.