[coolgal]: 288.Poetry.Bird on the Wire

I am the bird on the wire.
Electric pulses through tiny fragile feet.
(she feels the world beat)

The sky drips and clouds forget their shapes.
The sun peeks through a crack in the system,
   Everything mixes to build an arc of colour only the painter could dream of.


Umbrellas and rubber boots.

I am the bird on the wire.
Fluttered feathers shake away the cold.
(she watches the world grow old)

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In an office building she looks past the window and out to the traffic:
Vehicles stop, then go. Stop, then go.
Traffic lights blink directions for the street.
(she feels the world beat)

Her ink drips and coworkers forget their files.
The screen declares a corruption in the system,
       Everyone mixes to build a society only the businessman could dream of.


Copy machines and potted plants.

Staring out the window,
Her humanity and spirit unfold.
(She feels the world grow cold)


She is the bird on the wire.