Migration On A Bad Day

Met her in the driveway, blue band-aid

on her thumb because the rush came strong

and razor.

 

I saw the Redstart in the apple blooms,

ticking orange to black: the migration was on

and northing.

 

She had a shit day borne on a twitching

crease of lip, because she couldn't stand the gruel

anymore.

 

He clung to a fist of last autumn's fruit

I was too damned lazy to pick and lapped

a blossom.

 

She said, "the chef's a prick. Gave me thirty-two quarts

of cukes on my prep-list and the first ticket hit before

opening."

 

His mate alights flit olive and flush yellow

on the growing-tip sagging west. The tree was too close

to the shack.

 

"I'm out. I'm done. That dumb son

of a bitch can find someone else to take up his slack.

I just can't..."

 

As tear stalled long on her jaw, the breeding pair spiraled gone

in a low sun, leaving birds in the driveway fledged in the nest of

their making.

◄ Rendering Dream Upon Waking #1

Shoeshine - Recalling the Lessons of My Father - In Memoriam ►

Comments

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Devon Brock

Fri 28th Jun 2019 21:06

Thanks Mae.

D

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Mae Foreman

Fri 28th Jun 2019 15:26

Lovely poem Devon! Congratulations 🎈
Mae

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Devon Brock

Wed 26th Jun 2019 21:35

Thanks Jason, came as a shock with so many talented poets here.

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Jason Bayliss

Wed 26th Jun 2019 06:39

Well done Devon. A great piece from a worthy winner!

J. 😀

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Devon Brock

Sun 16th Jun 2019 22:35

Thank you Eiren

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Eiren Water

Sun 16th Jun 2019 11:16

Wow this is gorgeous. I love the delicate skirting and the intertwining tales. Beautifully executed.

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