04-02-2013, 04:58 AM
An Introduction to Death
I used to play around the trail of fir trees
that surrounded the fence.
They were guardians, a shelter
from the evils of ghosts
and things that lurk in dark corners.
My older brothers told me they
wait for you outside those trees.
In my garden, I was safe.
After a stormy, violent night
I stood on the patio;
something laid by the apple tree.
A sodden, dark mass
of feathers, legs, and
deep, staining claret.
It would not move.
This could not have been the fault
of ghosts
or things that lurk in dark corners.
My forest kept them at bay.
Had I done this?
It's wings were raised -
awkwardly assaulted into unnatural positions.
Like a signal, calling out a final song from a broken neck.
It did not move.
I had not been told about this -
It tainted my thoughts with erratic visions
of stone cold, panicked eyes,
and bloodied feathers.
Later, my brothers would laugh
call it 'a real dead'un!'
and display it to their friends.
I had hoped that before their eyes
it's wings would align,
it's feathers tidy,
the blood would return to it's heart
but still, it would not move.
------------------------------
Original:
I used to play around the trail of fir trees
that surrounded the fence.
They were guardians, a shelter
from the evils of ghosts
and things that lurk in dark corners.
My older brothers had told me they
wait for you outside those trees.
In my garden, I was safe.
Now heavy clouds hung in the sky.
As I stood on the patio
something lay by the apple tree.
A sodden, dark mass
of feathers, legs, and
deep, staining claret.
It would not move.
This could not have been the fault
of ghosts
or things that lurk in dark corners.
Had I done this?
It's wings were raised -
awkwardly assaulted into unnatural positions.
Like a signal, calling out a final song from a broken neck.
It did not move.
I had not been told about this -
It tainted my thoughts with erratic visions
of stone cold, panicked eyes,
and bloodied feathers.
Later, my brothers would laugh
call it 'a real dead'un!'
and display it to their friends.
I had hoped that before their eyes
it's wings would align,
it's feathers tidy,
the blood would return to it's heart
but still, it would not move.
I used to play around the trail of fir trees
that surrounded the fence.
They were guardians, a shelter
from the evils of ghosts
and things that lurk in dark corners.
My older brothers told me they
wait for you outside those trees.
In my garden, I was safe.
After a stormy, violent night
I stood on the patio;
something laid by the apple tree.
A sodden, dark mass
of feathers, legs, and
deep, staining claret.
It would not move.
This could not have been the fault
of ghosts
or things that lurk in dark corners.
My forest kept them at bay.
Had I done this?
It's wings were raised -
awkwardly assaulted into unnatural positions.
Like a signal, calling out a final song from a broken neck.
It did not move.
I had not been told about this -
It tainted my thoughts with erratic visions
of stone cold, panicked eyes,
and bloodied feathers.
Later, my brothers would laugh
call it 'a real dead'un!'
and display it to their friends.
I had hoped that before their eyes
it's wings would align,
it's feathers tidy,
the blood would return to it's heart
but still, it would not move.
------------------------------
Original:
I used to play around the trail of fir trees
that surrounded the fence.
They were guardians, a shelter
from the evils of ghosts
and things that lurk in dark corners.
My older brothers had told me they
wait for you outside those trees.
In my garden, I was safe.
Now heavy clouds hung in the sky.
As I stood on the patio
something lay by the apple tree.
A sodden, dark mass
of feathers, legs, and
deep, staining claret.
It would not move.
This could not have been the fault
of ghosts
or things that lurk in dark corners.
Had I done this?
It's wings were raised -
awkwardly assaulted into unnatural positions.
Like a signal, calling out a final song from a broken neck.
It did not move.
I had not been told about this -
It tainted my thoughts with erratic visions
of stone cold, panicked eyes,
and bloodied feathers.
Later, my brothers would laugh
call it 'a real dead'un!'
and display it to their friends.
I had hoped that before their eyes
it's wings would align,
it's feathers tidy,
the blood would return to it's heart
but still, it would not move.
- Amy
(You wouldn't be surprised to know my parents did not christen me UnicornRainbowCake.)
(You wouldn't be surprised to know my parents did not christen me UnicornRainbowCake.)
