she laid on her side

like a question mark

in the early morning,

there as she looked at the window

with it slightly opened,

a songbird appeared

and began to sing.

she was thrilled,

but yet depressed

with so many questions

running through her mind.

she couldn’t move,

though completely mesmerized

with  st. patrick’s day here and gone.

that still got the blues

with that songbird

battled back and forth

until the sounds

bridged the two

until she felt

nothing like being

in a mild up and down freefall

that shutdown the hanging on blues,

so effectively punctuated –

period.