Books held captive
by cardboard and tape,
waiting for a shelf
that doesn't exist vet...
Bubble-wrapped,
like fragile things must be
when there is nowhere
to put them.
And me,
on Arthur's Seat,
deceivingly happy.
The wind.
wind,
wind.
Birds stitching their songs.
Hoop earrings catching light.
I smile
the wind keeps pushing,
the rocks sharing secrets
…
A.Phoenix
