A bird knows


A river can’t but love her banks
while they cup her liquid warmth
and hold her back from insanity
She rages she rants
she breaks her waves upon their jagged thighs
but settles in again
for the rut though a rut is a familiar bed
Her nectar safe for another day
the plains safe from her mad forays
You know the water is just lying low
but not what is below
A bird knows when not to sing
though all around it may be spring
©Reena Prasad Dec 12 2013


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