As well as being a place to indulge my love of Hipstamatic and iPhone photos, this is a blog of images and words. Of little vignettes and quiet corners from a place in my head, a place I call The Moth House. Of significant, and also small, happenings there, the wanderings and musings and sad reveries of it's occupants, The Parted Lovers.

Sunday


After everything, 
to come home and find his trusty, cheerful little friend
frozen on the windowsill,
it seemed a blow too cruel.
And a grief clutches him as he takes it tenderly in his hand,
and knowing it is too late, 
he brings into the warmth of his house,
his anguished heart burning in his chest.

3 comments:

Martin H. said...

I was moved by this, Ciara. Quite beautiful.

Ellen said...

Heartbreak...poor little bird...

Half-heard in the Stillness said...

Such a sadness, what a beautiful bird.