“There were silver sparrows
feeding in the shadows
of bricker-bracken
on fresh pine nuts
from an old hope chest’s cones
Theirs were waning wings
tarnished in the window
of a bricked-up build
with a china hutch
from an old age gone long
I came on haunting heels
creeping like a widow
of a blacked-out bond
who misses much
from an old age gone long
It’s all an adage gone wrong”
That’s how you sang
like a gale in the night
and the stars met
that had been crying out for eons
I cut my hand
on the feather in your hair
and the sun set
as a drop of blood into the ocean
I felt so sane
with an eye to your words
a striving get
for seeds still being sowen
I swear the wind has never blowen
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.