Our life is but half a life
death is the remainder
the hope of love smothered by the smell
of tossed oil rags clings heavy in the sky
across the roads the towns
thousands of muddy bayous scream
to wake the Earth
the birds try to escape
knowing many will die
yet carry pieces of their nests
the bark of trees their eggs torn feathers and their cries
the smashed sunflower
the naked old stone
still hear far away
torn sounds of the hearts of birds
my mother, Atamant
and her parents, Gevont and Marina
walk as fast as they can
from the burning city
whisper to the birds
to send them hope
the birds grateful look down and
throw a few crumbs of old bread
and instruct them
to follow
no matter the odds
of midnight’s bleeding
and the dry taste of sleep
that devastates the sky
Grey Sparrow Journal 