Like a Wild Bird

Like everyone,
I am no one.

A pedestrian,
A plebe,
A half-grown seed.

A wild bird,
Calling out to the wind.

A spectacle,
A faceless,
Freak of nature,
A lunatic,
With imagination.

A voice without sound,
Form without fit,
Fingered fire,
For the deaf,
And the blind.

Like Spring,
In the midst,
Of Winter,
A matter of hope,
For the naked,
And the dead.

Perched on the edge,
The Herd having,
Gone its own way,
A friend,
A comrade,
A warm smile,
A cover,
For the cold.

A wild bird,
Calling out to the wind.