Misty Morning...

                   

At the brink of sunrise,
we two souls await a new day.
Kaira looks at me with sad, round eyes
and I put my wings around her in embrace.

Our home, a warm nest,
was at the top of the tower,
tucked in the elevator shaft
but that was a year ago.

It still is fresh in my mind ~
Kaira flying to me with tears flowing
and somehow I knew what had happened,
our sweet kids were no more.

The morning blanket of mist
is not beautiful anymore,
just a rising dark cloud of pollution
that has changed our lives forever.

                   

Line count: 16

Written for the Writer's Cramp.
Thank you Stormy Lady for featuring this poem in the "Poetry Newsletter (June 26, 2013)"