Upon his Saddle sprung a Bird
by Emily Dickinson
Upon his saddle sprung a bird
And crossed a thousand trees
Before a fence without a fare
His fantasy did please
And then he lifted up his throat
And squandered such a note
A Universe that overheard
Is stricken by it yet—
Maverick Mist 
Ciao bellissime immagini 🙂
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Bella Ciao, grazie. x 🙂
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That number of lost birds is disturbing. Thanks for the awareness. Harlon
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It is, thanks Harlon.
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The poem’s thought provoking.
And thank you very much for liking my post 🙂
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Emily’s a favorite, and thank you too. 🙂
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