Sky, the Budgie
He’s gone now,
And I’m not sure how.
Shocked to find his feathers on the bedroom rug scattered.
That’s all there was left, twisted and tattered.
White like clouds and blue like sky,
This wee small bird, my grief did console,
A birthday gift from a love who’s died,
'Twas a living link to that dear soul.
Sky’s gentle heart and sweet peeping love,
Helped me rise above,
The pain of loss.
In my mind’s eye now,
I see him flying once again whole,
Across paradise to perch on a gilded bough,
Beside that dear soul.
MRT
11-24-11
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