Solo
bluejays squawk a tango, as if their duende dies in the downpour
mourning
past
rains,
souls
mourning
futures
screamed
empty,
mourning
as if bluejays pour a tango down duendes, and their squawks die
Elizabeth Robin
6/23/2016
Solo
bluejays squawk a tango, as if their duende dies in the downpour
mourning
past
rains,
souls
mourning
futures
screamed
empty,
mourning
as if bluejays pour a tango down duendes, and their squawks die
Elizabeth Robin
6/23/2016
Pingback: Skinny poem in the Skinny Journal! – Elizabeth Robin