Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
Mittens held all the indifference in the world for the woman’s glares, but at the inquiry, its eyes narrowed, as if trying to pinpoint the deception, trickery, or deceit. It gave another furtive glance in Lena’s direction, to which the Caretaker couldn’t help but smile and hold back a little laugh. “It is willing to try,” for some sort of bargain; though it depended on the captain’s nature too – her companion didn’t seem to care for the bossy overtures. Thereafter, the snowball quickly snagged it in its mouth, and she could eventually hear it bobbing it about, and throwing it back and forth in upwards rotations.
Regardless, she didn’t mind if they struck a deal while she worked, picking over the shiny baubles that had scattered around. They were beautiful things, and she could see why the other wanted to keep them for décor and whatever other sanctity they provided. She didn’t hum, for she had nothing to match the sudden tune, but at least picking up pieces meant she was doing something these days, no matter how small or minimal.
Regardless, she didn’t mind if they struck a deal while she worked, picking over the shiny baubles that had scattered around. They were beautiful things, and she could see why the other wanted to keep them for décor and whatever other sanctity they provided. She didn’t hum, for she had nothing to match the sudden tune, but at least picking up pieces meant she was doing something these days, no matter how small or minimal.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
