Jackdaws
The blackbird takes off from his perch on
this lone pine in the dairy pasture, winging towards the
sky with all his might but
the pine is pugnacious and bitter, sweltering in winter. Before he
travels a league from her she drops him dead from the sky, victim of some
coniferous voodoo, some hex
or lymphoma ending him like a
matchstick.
Copyright © Geoffery Mchugh | Year Posted 2009
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