Singing Free

by Brianna G. Harte

Leaning against the light post,

Gazing across the golden sidewalk

Glittering in a quiet night

Where hardly a wind blows,

I sing softly, gently,

So that no one can hear me but me.

A beautiful serenity blooms

As words flow forward

While hidden from the world.

With only the black squirrels

Moving, scrambling, witnessing,

Inner tranquility becomes a flower,

One to open in the shadows

That burst forth with no judgment

Of a beauty or horror

Expressed for the flora itself.

So quietly will the song be breathed

That even companions have not heard

A tune break the silence,

The song of a happy bird.

Copyright © 2016 Brianna G. Harte. All rights reserved.


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