The White Bird

Lightly Lifted Wings 
in whispering flight
calling my name "Caroline"
In The dead of night
we have conversations
flown madly into winter night
madness is sweetest sense
freezing and hungry
flown from their cage
into the night
on white bird lays wounded
mauled by dogs
struggling to fly
i lift her in my hands and
cradle her close
two years have passed
still alive, she sings my name