Mikeyaw's blog: "Wow Lots Of Poetry!"

And; Until, I really Don't Know!

The little Black bird flew on a day that reminded all of the Dam and what it mean.

I mean as it turn a yellow eye and why, the Pat and Oat so wide, upon apologize.

Then flight upon release to perch of pillow red, the setting of its heart as Hand demand.

And: until, I really don't know, the wisp of higher clasp and yarn, to brow and teeter on.

To a seat of red of blaze with pearl white eye, the pat and oat of it to bath in thoughts come.

And: until, I really don't know, the future opens doors of all higher fends of Heavens blends.

I think I knew the day, of which such a black bird did set his time.

And; until, I really don't know of life worthy set to shine on as star.

I think I knew the day, of which is age and day; some, still going on.

By Michael J. Pinger 4/25/09