My maternal Grandfather passed away long before I was born, leaving behind shelves of books of poetry. Reading words he loved, especially those he had underlined with red pencil, allowed me to hear his voice ~ and find my own.
E M Katherine DeLorey 

Wounded Birds

Beware of wounded birds,
drawn to nurturing
as moths to the flickering flame;
stilled and vulnerable ’til time
and tenderness
return to strength
the vision of self in free flight.

Taking leave
with knowledge, without malice,
with gratitude, without caring,
of the nest you now discover
you’ve been building
only for yourself.

Beware of wounded birds,
whose clutching talons cling
as children fearful of the storm,
ripping without cruel intention
small fragments of the heart
left unprotected
from the inevitable ~ ~
left now wounded, without wings,
to mourn the loss of joint flight
which now will never be.

Please Submit Poems to be published here to garrylcox@yahoo.com

With Love from The Bard of Appanoose