Sitting suspended by telephone wire,
totally unaware of the conversation and communication going on beneath it.
Huddling into itself in the cold of the day, it's head almost disappears into it's body like an ostrich burying it's head in the sand.
Seemingly unaware of the pigeons on the wire with him, he happily huddles into the gray feathers of himself.
At a moments notice, he could take flight and head to a warmer town with more sun and less sub-zero winds, but he stays - content where he is.
This bird sits content in mid winter on a wire, while I daydream of places filled with sunshine and warmth.
Yet, I'm not the one with the wings, am I?
Does he know what opportunity he has, then again do I?
If I had wings like him, I'd hope I'd fly!
Comments
;-)
And I know the syndrome which you wrote so well.
*sigh*