in plain print, he tells me it's a hawk
with a broken wing
I close my eyes...all I see is a black,
greasy bird, barely bigger than a sparrow
not even worthy of Poe-itizing into a raven;
certainly not a fierce falcon
why can't I see thee, red tailed hunter?
you hiding in clouds adrift behind my eyes?
no, the crow's there, shining in a gold sun; seems
I'm not destined to imagine grander birds of prey
at least not today, reading your words of broken things,
the dark clouds of your dreams
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
in plain print, he tells me it's a hawk
with a broken wing
I close my eyes...all I see is a black,
greasy bird, barely bigger than a sparrow
not even worthy of Poe-itizing into a raven;
certainly not a fierce falcon
why can't I see thee, red tailed hunter?
you hiding in clouds adrift behind my eyes?
no, the crow's there, shining in a gold sun; seems
I'm not destined to imagine grander birds of prey
at least not today, reading your words of broken things,
the dark clouds of your dreams
Inspired by "r"s "Dreams like a broken hawk's wing"
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