When Blackbirds Came
I remember when wind chimes nestled in the heart,
rainbows soothed the tainted cay of innocents.
A golden candle tempering the fang of dark
I prayed that good spirits would always reign.
I remember the day when blackbirds came.
Within their fiery beaks was an icy rain.
Smashing every bluebird into bits of clay.
Silence and green-eyed things dominated the days.
Three decades of moths, chewing the good dream away.
Until I prayed no more.
The epiphanies then came in waves:
That wind chimes only spoke when the wind opened their cage.
Nobody paid attention to the candle until dusk awakened to swallow the day.
The bluebird isn't really acknowledged until his omega refrain is taken away.
Though the hands are now bent, the days are often spent
sifting amidst broken pieces of bluebird clay.
Nighttime arrives with chilling cries.
The teary-eyed mime tries in vain to knead the blackbirds into flying flame.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
