It’s been a while – I’ve let school take up most of my time – but I needed distraction and expression, so I visited Rochelle Wiseoff-Fields’s page to see what this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt might be. The 100 words came quickly, flowed effortlessly. I hope you enjoy it, or at least, understand.
Thanks to Roger Bultot for the photo.
They land quietly, one by one, in a seemingly random pattern. I noticed them shortly after she passed. I was staring out the window into the gray morning, tears etching my face, when they began arriving. I watched them for hours through the dusty glass as the day passed, dark gray skies to lighter grays and back. They never moved, except to make room for another, adjusting their own perches slightly to accommodate the newcomer. As I had no desire to move either, we sat quietly together. When they finally took flight, my sorrow flew with them.
This is a poem, a prose-poem, It’s beautiful
Thank you for reading and for your comment.
Perry Block (@PerryBlock) said:
Lovely. Wish the birds could take it all away for all of us.
Thank you. I do too…
Beautiful and contemplative. And in the end, sorrow flies away.
Lovely, for me this is the history of the human race on the move, seeking a new place then generations later moving on.
Lovely prose. Hope you’re having a respite from school now…or at least, soon.
One more semester, then onto new adventures!
Amy Reese said:
Maybe I should try meditating on the birds. Very nice.