Blackbird Song

I have let callous hands
unzip my heavy breath,
free me of metal,
cold restraint.

I have talked to wind
chimes short of frost,
of shine, and let
windy hands slap falling
leaves off
their easy limbs.

I have laid in blue bed
skies, covering mortality
with surging white mass;
pillows for eager
eyeballs. I popped each blue ball,
socket clean of collagen,
of cell, blackbirds emerging,
fleeting,
feeding on my sight.

What they must have seen!
What images must be coursing through
silk ebony feathers!
It is, surely, enough to take
a blackbirds
sight,
enough to pluck wispy wings
from a torrid
feathered friend.

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18 thoughts on “Blackbird Song

  1. I’ve always thought that Ravens / crows represent depression and death as brinemcallister has said. Though the birds creep me out, i have always wanted a tattoo of one. It just doesn’t make sense! I love your dark poems! Keep up the good work! Always coming up with something new, i like that! πŸ™‚

  2. Love it! Especially the “I have talked to wind chimes short of frost” line. Gave me a great mental image this morning.

  3. question: it’s possible you meant to use “calloused” hands. in other words, if the hands are worn, toughened, and have callouses, then it should be “calloused.” but if you mean hands that are brash, belong to someone who is going to be sort of rude and disrespectful to you, then “callous” is right. just wondering if it is how you meant it, or if it should be “calloused.” sorry if the question annoys you. some people don’t like these kinds of questions.

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