Alone in my room set,
Cherishing a portrait,
White-grey birds were they
Ample in numbers.
Quietly they set,
I wonder about their mood,
Gloomy? Angry? Joyful?
Frustrated were they I assumed
Caught in frame of a picture,
Still and tired.
I took out the photo
And let them fly,
Frozen smiles revived.
Wings fluttered
Necks turned.
From window they flew
With a thank you note,
But I could not say “welcome”.
