Touch

Touch

A chickadee lands in your hand,
its body a buoy

it grips your finger –
you don’t hold it. It holds you.

It is a kiss, both hard & soft,
both lip & bone.

On your way about your life,
at the mailbox, or a stop light,

your body remembers
those feathers. That touch. & others.

5 thoughts on “Touch”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s