Tuesday, September 20, 2011

A Bird is Known by It's Feather

I had a dove, and the sweet dove died;
And I have thought it died of grieving:
O, what could it grieve for? its feet were tied
With a single thread of my own hand's wearing;
Sweet little red feet, why should you die
Why should you leave me, sweet bird, why?
You lived alone in the forest tree.
Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me?
I'd kiss you oft and give you white peas;
Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?
                                         John Keats
All night
in and out of slippery shadows
the owl hunted,
the bead of blood.

scarcely dry on the hooked beak before
hunger again seized him
and he fell, snipping
the life from some plush breather,
Forgive me.
For hours I had tried to sleep
and failed;
restless and wild,

I could settle on nothing
and fell, in envy
of the things of darkness
following their sleepy course--

the root and branch, the bloodied beak --
even the screams from the cold leaves
were as red songs that rose and fell
in their accustomed place.
       Mary Oliver

Hempy Weezles from Ripe appears to love birds.  I love Hempy.  Find these lovely pieces in a variety of colors at her booth at the Jewelry Fair.

Jewelry: Ripe: photo 1: Tweedle Dee in Green
                       photo 2: In Ca'Hoots in Natural/Blue
Hair: D!va: Mimi: Lucky Board limited color
Skin: tres blah: {light} C88 Neon Corner: @ Collabor88
Sweater: Surf Co: Floral Cab Sweater
Tank: Jane: Intrinsic Tank - turquoise

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