query

what next, the little bird asks,
after a meal has been had,
and a little love,
the nest padded and warm again.
what next?

after the surrender to all the good things,
the bird looks up, full-bellied,
sees, suddenly, the expanse of
white space, a beautiful blur
where the horizon once was.

and what comes next
is a desire,
not for flight exactly,
but flying.