Ginge Reads

Photo by Rakshith Reddy on Unsplash Light glints down on indigo bunting Burning bright on a wire And I watch As the sun warms her wings, Her tiny frame of vivid colour Soaking up the day. She greets the sun anew,  Like an old friend rarely seen But loved always. She leaps. Enclosed in lightness of flight, She has never owned shadow And takes to the skies with arrow grace. Every move she makes Reverberates like a musical note from a key Privileged enough to have been played. She puffs her front and sings like she ought. Would she sing for me, If she got caught?