****** Hornets

I have been feeling,
Of late ...
that the ****** Hornets have missed us by miles  
And they are sure shot  
Tangle with the most like daggers  
  
Leaving an Unkindness of Ravens  
Furrowed brow  
(If they’d had any)  
Over eyes  
Narrowed in on outlines in chalk  
  
But figments and scatter  
Shadow people  
Who stand and walk away  
Under the cover of bold sun  
  
It might just be okay.. ..  
  
The newspaper green at its memory  
When pages had fluttered from  
Martyr  
To  
Martyr  
  
Worst to worst  
  
Might the best reman?  
  
I feel of late it might have been  
A narrow miss  
An allegorical  
Cause and escape  
  
Whether the cage door pried?  
Weather  
It matters  
  
The Sunshine be bold on backs  
That once crawled and drew a curious flock  
Un shadowing arms
  
That once  held the hands of clocks