After-dark
aria's

shattering
silence
of
night

a drowned mockingbird
perched in shrouded branches
pecking in your head

He carries
weeping willow
memories

burnt to stub
lanes of forest trees
curiously inflamed in sun

mysterious
at
night

violet waves
frosting leaves

His ethereal trill
like
a
haunted
snowflake

tiptoes frigid air

both wings fractured
in maze of mirrors

now he serenades night
silencing crickets
full moon inspired

24 hours a day
spring to summer
clarifying his voice

He remembers being tested
by demonic shrieks

each black shrill
holding him underwater

a delicate noun
forced to eat verbs

nobody knew
what he survived

He returned years later
after silence stole his voice

perched half slain
on a broken oak branch

his frail voice
full of gurgling river water
and
broken stones

He never knew if his song
could escape the cage-

his
scarred
voice
steadily
becoming
stronger

inspiration hunted
by
moonlit
ribbons

frosting hope
back into

clear
violet
vision

fractures of shadow
lingering for wise reminders.