Hybrid
Hybrid
She was not like other birds. She knew that, and knew also that it might be a problem.
So, before entering the greater world, she tried to signify that she came in peace, by wearing olive leaves on her brow.
Getting the leaves stay up there was no easy task. (Of course she could not just carry them, what with her wings.)
The webbed feet did hold the branches in place upon the ground, however, and her nose, though not a beak, was rather long for a nose—useful that.
And, of course, the teeth helped.
So she managed, amazingly, to tear the leaves from a handy branch, and to weave a little circlet, which, when she saw her reflection in her pond’s still surface, looked rather handsome, she thought.
But pride, perhaps, goeth before a fall. For though the crown stayed on well enough, it did not seem to get its message across so clearly—the message of peace.
At least other birds were flying straight towards her now with intentions she could not gauge.
Yes, she was big, awkward. So, she had been made. She worried that they would hold that too against her.
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A little illustrated snip of a story for April. I took down yesterday’s poem, as it just felt too grim and too graphic as the day went on. Crazy times. Stay well.
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ManicDDaily 
April 28, 2022 at 9:57 am
Little snips of stories compliments of Karin always delight.
Must say as I read the poem you posted yesterday I shivered in response. It was a masterpiece … swinging thoughts, changing mood, all very real. Grim, yes. And worth the read.
April 28, 2022 at 10:40 am
Dear Helen, thanks so much. I just felt as the day went on that it was so graphic, and that somehow the use of certain words might redound back on me in negative ways. We live in such crazy times. I do like the poem as a poem.
Thanks so much. k.