This poem in inspired by a piece of sculpture.
birthing an egg, quickly, quicker.
The wood is hard and split down
the middle. A force oozes down
the back splitting the bird open
dividing its psyche. The bird unfolds,
it comes down, descends with
a killing speed. It is blind with
one eye. The people in its grip hold
onto each other helplessly, they
are abandoned, lost beyond reason.
The bird is death.
© 2006 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 763 times
Written on 2006-10-03 at 04:51
Tags Death
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The Bird
Death comes quick, like a birdbirthing an egg, quickly, quicker.
The wood is hard and split down
the middle. A force oozes down
the back splitting the bird open
dividing its psyche. The bird unfolds,
it comes down, descends with
a killing speed. It is blind with
one eye. The people in its grip hold
onto each other helplessly, they
are abandoned, lost beyond reason.
The bird is death.
© 2006 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 763 times
Written on 2006-10-03 at 04:51
Tags Death
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
