Poems

The Woodpeckers

Who doesn’t love
To feel the sun on your skin?
Step off,
Fall in.

I’m happy when I cannot conceive.
Relief, not to believe.

Who took the sun away?
Who shatters the day?
Mouth, full of clay.
Hot day.

Look at you all.
So absorbed,
So instinctive.
There is no question
Of how you will live.
Fly yourselves ragged,
Flit.
Tear out your feathers.
Tear out your heart.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s