Bird in the bush

There, on a liberal bough, beyond me, beyond my bruising grasp, the song in safety warbles, and I may hear it reach me in amplitude, and I by chance may see the singer, an accident of light, none of my doing but of my holding back from doing. And so perceiving.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...