The Red Bird

The Red Bird Had pinned itself meek
To the wall
His wings flapping
And the need, the want
The Red Bird’s food
Its gasoline/
obsession.
The Red Bird
Clung to the Branch, as
smaller birds tried to push it off.
Lost its grip and teeter-tottered
Merely gained its composure again.
The Red Bird
Feigned a lost mêlée To surprise/
And caught back up to the race Heading
Back down South.





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hermitcapistrano said...
Feb. 15, 2010 at 1:59 pm
Quite insightful - to the point of being rather disturbing. The author does not waver from staring into the abyss of fear and loneliness. Cool.
 
penandink105 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Feb. 16, 2010 at 8:34 am
thanks! insightful yourself. this is pretty deep stuff, right?
 
hermitcapistrano replied...
Feb. 16, 2010 at 9:04 am
Yeah, surprisingly deep, especially the comeback at the end of the poem.
 
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