napowrimo day 5

an emily dickinson poem cut up and messed about with was todays challenge. I chose “hope is a thing with feathers”…

Hope

A thing

Perched with feathers

The souls sings the tune

The words never stop

The sweetest gale is heard

The storm

That could abash the little

So many i’ve heard

Warmed birds

On the chillest land

On the strangest sea

In extremity

It asked a crumb

Me

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