BLUEBIRDS

the sound of walking,

justifying the past,

sweating out

the fevered thoughts

 

discovering a corner

to tackle the messages

drowning under

the weeping within

as the rain

cuts sharp

on the surface of

broken words

as you reach

for the higher part,

pushing prayers up

while catching the

unanswered

 

waiting

for the return

of blue birds

to where you are