the pen-bird / five minute poem

---

the pen-bird drifts;
in warmth filled fingers, it dives
swooping to slash a trail of dark.
this poem begins with a bird.

the paper's ink-smile widens
stretching further down the page
nothing blossoms, yet
but the seeds are being sown

the storm of stanzas builds
and a third rains into life
the flowers begin their slow journey
into the light.

this is where it stops.
the paper, petal-covered now
is coming to it's timely end
and the pen is slowly bleeding
it's blue heart dry

---

Yes, a case of extreme simplicity; it's called 'five minute poem' because that's how long it took to write. I timed it. So, don't expect too much, yeah? :)