withered evenings

when the dust storm had settled
it became difficult to hide the
pain hanging on the corner of my eyelids

i could not have masked teh
shivers of a bird in the cold night
she would not say any thing at all
keep quiet
but then cant i sense the cold
wind that makes her wings so sullen
how will she fly now
may be when sun rises tomorrow,
the frosty night will have been forgotten
wings will expand,
morning will shrink
and the eyes will dry up

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