Posted on 10/05/2011


This poem’s been written for Magpie tales:

Even though
His eyelids are shut
In this fresco

A hint of melancholy
Catches my eye, the way
He holds the birdie

Within the heat
Of his palms
He seems to seat

The birds, signaling
An evening of talk
Without words is awaiting

Doesn’t it show?
From the way
He’s caresses the sparrow?

He wants to tell it all
His whole story,
Before they even fall?

Even before they take flight
Into a world at times apathetic,
Even before they put up a fight

Is this only a sculpture?
So alive, that every viewer
Visualizes a future

Even with,
Our eyelids shut
Of this very fresco