Hanging Breath ------------------------------------------------------------------------- A black bird perches on a trembling leaf, a single dewdrop clings, poised in air, the branch leans lightly, holding quiet grief. Soft gold spills over green with careful care, the edge of branch and building catches light, and morning hums with patience rare. The drop sways slowly, trembling in its flight, the leaf bows under weight it cannot fight, the hush holds all, a fragile, trembling sight. A breath of wind brushes the sharp-edged height, the bird blinks once, steady, small, aware, while sunlight threads along the trembling white. The leaf bends gently, leaning into air, the drop lets go, deliberate and slight, and silence spreads, luminous, precise, and fair. The bird lifts softly, brushing past the wall, morning holds gold in leaf and falling drop, all fragile wonders, perfect as they fall Light spills again across the trembling top, and awe remains, attentive over all. Credits 1. Me for the poem 2. Canva for thumbnail
