A Windborne Bird.

My artist friend is now long gone but her art and poetry still startles me and warms me up sometimes.
Some event will happen in my life and suddenly her brush strokes reappear in my memory, strokes that I thought I had forgotten. She painted with words, too.

Here is one of her poems about love:

Love
is such a
Misused word.

I wish I
had another
to express
when
My heart is
A windborne bird,
When I see a
Strange wildflower.
                               (Kathryn Bradford Dyer)

See what I mean?