Morning Birds

i undress you in silence
with words that have fingers,
and need not sound,
or form....

embracing the light
hidden in your darkness,
i lick the years from your eyes.

and coming like rain,
i release your suffering,
drunk on the scent

of your being...
the song of morning birds,
a gift left by the wind...

on the step by your door!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!