The Quail
The Quail
We call ourselves united and there
I found perfection sitting by herself
Indulged in her own thoughts
Unique but considered "off" to the rest
She did not try to impress
She was simple and humble
The zoo was filled with many creatures
And she was the quail
Smoothening her feathers she flies
Away from the vicious animals
And finds her solitude
Shrouded in the mist of her peace
She turns and smiles at me
Seemingly aware of my stone gaze
Her lip may curl up to hide her secrets
But her eyes bore an aphotic past
Perhaps I was just imagining things
Her encounters could have been kind
Maybe she simply chose solitude
As the world is too cruel to live; we simply survive
Her feathers were ruffled by the storm
Some scars too familiar, some unimaginable
How does she continue to arouse us
And mesmerize us with her beauty?
Others say her appearance is what captures
But I have the eye of perspective
I see strength, her endurance through a thousand blizzards
As she perches on her willow tree, singing her songs
Keeping up the masquerade of an eternally shining sun