Death of Birds

within a circle small

children kneel

in their tears crumbles

of warm earth

the sky calls their names

growing softer over time

the conflicted light embraces

its telling shadows

their lowered eyes

hidden from me

time crawls stops

the great egret passes high

so slowly over tall trees

green summer water

is this the illusion

ask me again

ask me when it

begins again

when the death

of birds and

the cold hand of truth slaps at me

wakes me from this holiest of

restless sleeps

Death of Birds

jppestana

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