Thursday, February 20, 2014

the fire place

what is this rustling
i hear in the chimney,
just inside the wall
beside my easy chair?

an Unseen Bird
fell from the sky,
feathers fighting
for lift.
once free,
She lies fluttering now
atop the flue plate,
covered in soot.
the close brick
dark as death.

a fractured song,
sifted of hope,
rose like smoke,


a final sCraTcH of wings.

the very last prayer.

i can do nothing but listen
to Joy suffocating.

pity i never saw
Her colors—
but i heard Her song.
sure She was no crow.

in the spring
i will tear down
the smoke stack
and bury small bones.

maybe the earth
will dance
in remembrance.

the fire place
a poem by troy cady

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