THE BLACK BIRD STORY. by (me!) Sandra, tvgp
I can't, for the life of (me!) find it... I've typed it a dozen different ways in the search bar... Now, I'm forced to do a terrible job re-telling it from a poor memory: Black bird on the curb.. I'm watching it through my front window. It's trying to pick up a walnut or something roundish with its beak... Gets it, but it slips out back on the ground again.. tries again, the object falls out of it's mouth again! It hops around this way, and that.. Tries another angle, a new grip... Looks like it has successfully got the object in its beak... It slips out again! I say out loud (or think it, can't remember..) "don't you wish you had hands?". And in exactly that moment, the black bird gets the object in its mouth, looks directly at me, and then flies away... Says to me (or just thinks it..). .."and don't you wish you could fly?"
posted by SHE @ 10:02 PM
2 Comments:
What a WONDERFUL metaphor that tells so many stories. Thank you for sharing.
this should actually close with "and don't you wish you had wings." -belated editing files.
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