A Bluebird's Song

More about A Bluebird's Song

Pine dews a morning song tickles the ear.
This dawn lit a cold place.
Snowflakes fall upon my nose.
The softest touch of broken souls.

Sorrow and fear a contagion to evade.
Curling my fingers around my mistakes.
Little use stewing in shame.
Could a blue bird infect this stale cold?

The tune you sing surrounds a weary cage.
Illusionary bars shatter frozen candy canes.
Do I dare reform myself, could a world change?
Chirping song fall away, voices, dances, tunes?

A party, gathering, joyful friends could be much fun.
Confines denied a cheerful break, sing on for I am late.

Aaron Baker