Birds upon Threshold


We stand upon the meadow,
(amongst the wild-flowers), gazing at

the Moon — and we sway,
(as though enchanted), wave after wave —

coursing, through our hearts / our eyes:
wide, to the silvery light; our

hands: touch the night / how
breath arrives, and breath departs, (true

to Its spiraling Nature) / how: bare-feet
hold firmly — the silent ground /

Now: an extension of our Voice,
(a whisper), set upon the aire — to care,

to care! / these [ ] disappear —
Pia Copper, drop’d in-

Pttttttto The Well.

Leonard Zawadski’s poetry appears or will appear in ‘Sunset Liminal,’ ‘The Literary Nest,’ ‘Quail Bell Magazine,’ and several others. He lives in Chicago, IL.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.