Stepping out into the yard,
my curvéd bow strung tight.
Thereupon my driveway,
three blackbirds share the light.
The moment is opportune,
it must be now, do or die.
I've got thoughts of my belly
filled with hearty blackbird pie.
"What did they ever do to you?
They're not a threat in the least."
Yet should I die in my own yard,
they'd pick me for the feast.

I used to wear this hair as a badge of courage
That the fire in me would never subside.
But now I find myself broken down
Digested by life.

I used to wear this hair to spite life
To challenge it to a never ending duel.
But now I find myself defeated
Incapacitated if you will.

I used to wear this hair as a declaration
That I would always be spunky.
But now I find myself deflated
Unable to continue on.