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#4 - Thousands die, thousands
by Linda FullerIn dreams I hear the muffled thuds
of red-wing blackbirds plummeting to earth
a rain of black and red and brown, down
down they fall, no parachutes, no net,
males’ plumage glossy black, red epaulets
flash jauntily before my eyes, the drab
brown females fall as well but make
a far less showy spectacle. I count
each bird, each thump, as each soft body
meets the ground. It’s quiet now and cold,
the bodies bound to earth, no more to ride
the currents of the air, to sing, to mate,
but still to die. Still, too, the cadence of the drum
fish beats a steady dirge, then fades away.
01/04/2011 Author's Note: Poem-a-Day January 2011 #4. Inspired by recent events in Arkansas and Louisiana.
Posted on 01/05/2011
Copyright © 2024 Linda Fuller
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Shonda Creemer on 01/05/11 at 03:00 AM Close to home. Those said recent events happened oh...about 40 or so miles away from me. The birds that is....the fish ~ a lil bit further away. I like this. Thank you for posting. Now if only we knew what the heck was going on. :/ |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 01/05/11 at 03:32 AM ... excellent..... |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/05/11 at 03:23 PM Wonderful. Nothing less. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 01/05/11 at 04:17 PM Great write lady. |
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