that the sparrows would disappear
the hate and disaprovement
would chew weeks and beads,
peas crushing dry one's scull
leftover teeth bits
Behind all bad that goes on
It is indeed behind
how not to disagree?
There, a plunge
spiraling down from the
Meteora rock house
the pool isn't a glass
the landing dive
dip into your eyes.
There are also times
the dark hooded priest
white bearded, black cloth
and book covered in gold script
would take a seat
on an unmarked grave
pull out a tiny little glass bottle
drink out the clear spirit in one go
And say, "See me, don't blame me
and don't you ever talk to me again!"
He would leave,
but two birds would spring
out nearby high grass
swallows, their destination - roof,
And no falcon or eagle
would notice them,
placing down
their first branches.
Thourn Whaul 11/'07