Trinket’s Freedom

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #466

Words:  chain, mend, vote, weigh, flow, drain, raven, name, chime, shallow, lace, trace

Chimes rang out at midnight.
The raven had flown off,
leaving me a trace of lace
at my window. Not knowing
its sex, I have named it
Trinket, an apt name for
a generous bird, unlike
those shallow bluejays.
I wonder where Trinket
flies off to in this
draining heat that weighs
so heavily on my head.
Time to break this virus
chain, mend our minds
and bodies, and ready
ourselves to vote. For
now, again,  “The times they are
a’ changin’.”*

*lyrics of Bob Dylan

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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3 Responses to Trinket’s Freedom

  1. rothpoetry says:

    Very nice. You know we have been cooped up too long whey our only friend is a raven named Trinket! Love it!!


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