A bird in the bush
Is worth two in the hand
The blackberry scratches
Stinging,
Painful but the fruit
Is
So
Sweet.
A rustle
a leaf moves
As a bird flies out
In a whir of wings and feathers
One cloud in the sky,
Unmoving.
As the earth,
Our mother,
Rotates beneath us
And we speak with one voice
And try to find each other