Three days and five ruined copies later, I finished my labors of tweaking, cursing, and finally, relieved coloring. I am ready for my day of rest.
"The war tried to spring."
Opening yellow birds would be harder to stomach than my brain,
Which cannot always be trusted with a deft poetic voice.
Firsthand experience drops us in the confusion of a vague heart, and it is a mighty private tour.
We get old in war, before they ship out promises.
Watch out for the slow resolve of the dead to leave behind what happened
To years of skimming headlines about canceled dinner plans.
Stay home and read because the imaginative power of standing in shock
when a subtle shift in the psyche surrenders to the truth.
Death soars in beautiful, horrible moments.
The tether to humanity may die around that simple visceral detail.
Birds alongside things carried vital men and women who want to understand.
-Julie Wunderkind
No comments:
Post a Comment