Passion for scavengers cease for the sentinel perched on a high limb falls from its colloquy
a black sheen sombers such collaud toward vanity
as leden eaves fall among children of secrecy.
Prey arms of powder & pellet rise in barrel unity
your pecanpicking heart
falls as a thinshelled drupe from a husk of shade falls as one for sorrow.
Redeemer among dark kindred & beadled sky wings of mirth
from a wheedle beak & a double heart do caw.
Hunger for brokenness laid on tread asphalt & hunger for a simp
wed by death to a bright & silver cast a slight shade of blue in an empty antelingual pouch
a keel laid low in a sigh of need
& silent as a secret never told.
Dead tongues of bone will press against a pure heart shute
as a banner of blood hangs above this murder
beyond all seven branches of shelter.
Strange fruit falls among droops of catkin
& we shall keep & preserve them so from this generation
our branches shall be known by wicked & vile fowl exalted.
Morning shall hang as shadows of deaths own shell.
Note: Because of the distinctive formatting of this poem it is best viewed in the print or digital version of the Winter 2017 Issue. The following image shows the proper formatting of the poem.
