Tuesday, May 23, 2017

James Diaz writes

Last Night, On Your Porch
I carry what you cannot 
over the hill 
and lay me down 
sweet morning 
I am not a weapon 
for you to do with  
as you please 
a lot can happen  
in an hour 
even in the wind 
something is bending 
there were days 
I went rogue 
and under dressed 
the place where 
they kept dangerous 
things tied to trees 
I said a prayer there 
even though my throat 
released only air 
and my body 
it seemed 
disowned me 
I dug for whatever 
might be left 
carried it in me 
as far and as long 
as I could.
 Image result for songbird cage paintings
They Were Flying Higher than the Rest of Us…So We Shot Them Down -- Lonac

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