Thursday, February 25, 2016

To Prey


Perched upon the precipice, putting it out...There
Toes of talons testing
Tensile strength
the weight of gravity’s grip
Knuckles fisted white feathers
circle around palms, swooping ling lines
under current, jet streams, screams
of circles
sees squarely, keen
seen belly dancing
BuTter-f-l-I-e-s
Flutter, stutter, mutter
pinned in air
frozen
tock-only
circles in the sand, out-lines
beat
        ArounD
the                  bush
Tracing the clock
You Are Here.




Composed 3/27/15.
Image By Justin Connaher (https://www.dvidshub.net/image/1695289) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.



Labels: , , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

And then...

  Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign,  at first...

  • The Creative Process by e.e. cummings 1 and 2 (plus 5)
                         1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
  • An Other Song on the Jukebox Baby
    Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
  • Ex-isle
    This world  is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as  Push and pull Go. Busy hands and  bees-electricity, alter...