Mutant 750, #29 “The Dream” to the HOSTPieta

“The Dream”

I dreamt I touched the mother and her son;

her Pieta so warm that we were one.

Impassioned, knew her thoughts grieved for her child

as empathy pervades my flight, awhile.

That pity lives within her marble breast

drives me to sympathy, profound and cast

cold gloom upon my wing`ed dream. At last,

I flew into such region we could share

there our sorrows,

*wing banded,

with despair.

* (to mark (a bird) with a wing band for identification)