Redwing Blackbirds Poem

Redwing Blackbirds Poem

This morning they came like the dying
reclaiming their old lives, delirious
with joy right on the seam of Spring,
streaming in by the tattered thousands,
like black leaves blowing back onto the trees.
But the homeless know what’s expected by now,
and when the farmer fired into their body,
they rose all around me like trembling
black wounds gaping red at the shoulders,
a river of pain draining into the sky.
Tonight, as I look at the cold sky
and its flock of blue-white scars,
I can’t yet turn from Orion’s red star
whose trembling red light has travelled for years
to die now into any eyes that will hold it.

Fred Dings

Redwing Blackbirds Poem

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