The bird-woman with wind in her hair
waiting for SOMETHING to lift
her sagging wings
is looking around in vain.
Tired of waiting
she doesn’t give in:
makeup on her eyes
rouge on her lips
complete with hanging earrings.
You never know when
her five minutes will come
running along the road
and roll before her feet
like fully ripe pears.
Without surrealism
AuthorVioleta Tančeva-Zlateva