Little Birdie : Writing

1943

1943

A Poem by Little Birdie


She was 16 when she died.
Good Intentions

Good Intentions

A Poem by Little Birdie


The sky bleeds purple.
I'm Sorry

I'm Sorry

A Poem by Little Birdie


I'm sorry for hiding your strings.
The Church Bell of Valea Viilor

The Church Bell of Valea Viilor

A Poem by Little Birdie


One, two, three, four.
Re-born

Re-born

A Poem by Little Birdie


Admiring the view?
Lost

Lost

A Poem by Little Birdie


I don't see her at night.
Velmera

Velmera

A Poem by Little Birdie


The smoothest path through hell.
Trinitoe

Trinitoe

A Poem by Little Birdie


To stay?
This Morning

This Morning

A Poem by Little Birdie


It was sunny on my way to the city this morning.
Crépuscule

Crépuscule

A Poem by Little Birdie


She used to sit on the other side of the table.