A flash of gold
blisters my skin,
causing me to retreat
to the shade of the weeping willow.

Bead after bead of salt
forms a darkened necklace
on my grey collar,
my noose of summer.

The once green, now yellow,
slowly dying scenery
reinforces my instinct
to flee inside these wooden boxes.

My shoulders are kissed
with buckets of rays—
they pour down from above
the heads of the trees.

I submerge my wings
up to the first hinge,
the chill of the pond
barely softens the burn.

I grimace as the light reflects,
obscuring my vision.
There’s someone out there
who knows how to change things.

As I shake my feathers dry
and prepare to flee back home,
I glance to the side,
seeing my distorted reflection in the ripples.

Mother Nature is finally happy
with the way we are reacting.

I said it first.
I broke the silence.
Shattered the earth,
Echoed the sirens.
I screamed it in the black
Garden of wilted flowers.

I saw the flowers
And broke them first,
Painted them black.
Echoed the silence
Of imaginary sirens,
In the garden of the earth.

I felt the earth,
and smelled the flowers
until I shattered with the sirens.
I echoed the first
Wave of silence
by the garden dressed in black.

I knew the black
devouring the earth
would bring forth silence.
I watered the flowers
And mowed the lawn first,
By the garden through the sirens.

I heard the sirens
Break through the black.
I was happy at first,
To fear to earth.
Now I hear the flowers
in the garden disrupt the silence.

I felt a wave of silence
before I heard the sirens.
I looked to the flowers
For an explanation to the black,
Until I felt the earth,
Unravel in the garden first.

First silence,
Earth’s sirens,
Black flowers.

You’re the bee’s knees between my knees.
Sweet as nectar,
**** like blood.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing
Shopping for sheep,
Shopping for mercy,
Shopping for me.

To the naked eye
You’re just fine
But to the naked touch
Your skins too rough.
Your eyes too beady.
You’ve lost your touch.
The lone wolf in sheep’s clothing,
Doing his bidding.