Little Bird
Four flights in nine years to India, she said,
A bird in a cage in the darkest corner.
(Is the unconscious mind, she meant.)
She found — at Jack Kerouac’s
School of Disembodied Poetics — the glass
Ceiling of faith and got turned on.
(To the power of songwriting, she meant.)
By the starry plough on High Street near the bay
Her other half, her bittersweet valentine, leaned
His body looking down the road, crying Love and Hope.
(Are ever on my mind, she thought.)
Don’t show me, let me find my way, he said.
(Maybe an earthquake shaking soul to roots, he meant.)
Could he hear the tiny faraway fluttering?
Listen, she said.
Little Bird is Deborah Crooks’ full-length follow-up to her 2010 EPs It’s All Up To You and Other Halves.
Buy Deborah Crooks’ music on CD Baby.
