Winged Creatures

In myth and lore, winged creatures mark endings or transitions. A butterfly, the passage of the soul from one plane to another. Moths were the ancestors’ eyes upon their people. Birds, the messengers of the gods.

 

 

Sorrow

 

Birds appeared after your last time.
A flight stood at windows, clustered
on the grounds. All silent as you are now.
Their eyes fixed toward the flutter
of curtain where I stood, half-hidden.
Jays, cardinals, the crimson and blues
were vivid against the Fall last grasses.
This time no winged emissary waited
gimlet-eyed to measure my sallow grief.

 

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