That blue hour…running water lit in ripened blood…only one tree shivers a feverish eulogy to Summer…morning memories of jays bird boxing…the tin of their screams, serrated & rusted…their flight patterns a star tetrahedron…through which I glimpse the breadth of eagle wings…you omen my divine wheeling, ascent in growth & vision… …from the earth, a mother snake sought the sun…her hatchling lifeless on moon cast stone…earthbound sparrow chatter hushed…cycloned leaves in the kicked up breeze, an energy silenced in a sun-blind collision…cicada camouflage pressed in asphalt flat…wings reduced to dusty, shattered factory windows…screams of youth bullet the holes… …Death keeps me grounded…frees me from all cages & irons…in my memory & at my bedside, we smile at each’s actuality…I thank Him repeatedly…because of our proximity, I expand on life… …Back in that blue hour…water raining over my body, lit in copper-rich blood… …I’m bleeding anew… …ever viable & always in thrive… …I’m meta… …breath & fight…
E.A. O'Connell
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