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On the Backs of Birds

Updated on December 3, 2015
In the blink of an eye, lightening
A corpse sits in a chair
Loss cries out for -
Wait, darkness,
But the path is clear
All but one loss.
A catch in the door
Wide open now
Mommy be there
Old and rotten
Like you never were
Cracked now
In the lightening stare
of up and down
Our spirits fly
On the backs of birds
And the blackness of the skies
We hunt in the night,
We hunt in the day,
Wicked spirits:
Be good enough to stay.


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