Migration

How easily they scatter

and restring themselves,

necklace wire taut

on the sky’s bare throat,

arranged visual symphony,

silhouette notes,

perched, iron ornaments

on wrought-spruce filigree,

shadow play of coming Yule.

Their multitude is galaxy,

black stars stark bright

against pale autumn light.

Return again!

Wheeling freedom,

unreeling choreography:

teach us your joyful harmony.

___________________________

We are all alone,

our one-mind atrophied,

heart-breaking,

exploded clay-pigeon fragments,

alienated, silent, lost.

We are trapped in airless cages,

parroting repeating rages

of our own making,

awaiting awaking.

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018