there is a beautiful little blackbird her feathers shimmer green as the sun licks her back. she hops through the dewy blades of grass and her empty eyes dart and flick. she skips her way to the base of the cherry blossom tree. here she crouches amongst the pink petal pillow awaiting the fall of a single round ruby fruit. little blackbird feels the change in the wind as she sits. the sharp tongue of winter is lost. any day now the pink petal pillow will also blow on replaced by a shiny fallen cherry, just for her. the sun will gift her a slim beam. it will trickle through the branches of her tree like golden rain to warm her full belly as she spreads her feathered wings to the light.
Much love XX
