Full
Full
Full
In silence,
perched upon a branch,
a feathered mortal
scanned the pool of water
where the ice
had not begun to sculpt.
Its eyes sought
‘any’ movement.
Its longing for a taste
of some-thing to satisfy
an empty belly.
Holding steadily,
bathed in sun’s light
like a monk
consumed in prayer…
Ahhhh~~~
was this communion?
Was this solitary winged-being
already fed?
It was I who feasted at this site
AND so very full.
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