The Nocturnal Early Bird........

As the night bird clutches the necks of whiskey worms, the early bird is left with the remains of memories that intoxicated the morning. Wiggling thoughts sober the wings; giggling cries alert the skies. Day break has broken lights of night flies. As the nocturnal early bird retreats to caves of bubbling merlot. The cries of the caged night screeches her way to the windowsill as the night bird clutches the necks of whiskey worms, the early bird is left with the remains of memories that intoxicated the morning. The majestic optics navigate the smells of cocktails under the wings of bats. Flying high for the drops of vodka-stained dew brightens the night sky. Releasing sorrows of rain on the unprotected feathers gives the night bird the right weight to take a flightless flight. Perched are tethered wings, perched are weathered things. Perched is the nocturnal early bird doing her thing.

Sharafette Bryant