Canaries of a Jagged Mind
A bouquet of canaries came calling.
A yellow rose quartette.
They sweetly sang and expected nothing in return.
Preened the pangs of life away.
They were looking for a place to rest.
They had been flushed from the hills and valleys.
But never did they once complain.
Life continued.
With days and nights of water colored nonchalance.
After some time,
I noticed their plumage turning dull.
Their songs all but stopped.
Suddenly one day they all just flew off...
On an icy horizon
sat a fattened red-tailed hawk.
Flashing a pale-yellow beak.
Reflecting in a jagged mirror called fatal destiny.
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