when november's clouds darken to pewter grey |
hiding the watercolored sun of the shortening day
a honking, a whooshing, a rippling of waters -they rise -
a V slicing the skies.
an unnatural POP echoes; her Eden shatters -
her mate will grace the hunter's platter.
she calls with mournful sound,
wanting not to leave him lying upon the killing ground.
dipping wings bid her come - far above intrusive predator -
solace among birds of a feather.
she lifts her head, spreads her wings pushing toward another life
beyond the pewter skies.
birds of a feather
© 2015 jamieclaire
(All rights reserved)