Realized Thirty Years Late
When my father dies
i'll be in Texas
far away from the cold
welding my soul back together
When my father dies
a thousand birds come to circle his soul
swooping and plucking
at eyes decayed of love
Will the birds make a nest of his mistakes?
with a tiny child who slumbers life away
in twisted memory branches
I do not wish to sleep
Copyright © Allison Mader | Year Posted 2015
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