The clouds come rolling over

and the thunder plays its tune

to the beating of the heart

of one whose dark dreams are in bloom.

silent screams pierce the red sky.

As the sun falls in the night,

darkness comes, peace, another lie.

Toss empty kisses to the storm-driven blackened sky

where the flock of dead swallows will once again fly

Newborn scent (sent), naked sweat,

baseball bats, lovers nest (rest),

daughter’s smiles, traveling long miles.

Burning nails shot through to quell

desperate prayers, personal hell.

Sun (son) long gone ripped apart.

Eagles feathers strewn around.

Toss empty kisses to the storm-driven blackened sky,

where the flock of dead swallows will once again long to fly.

 

~~jules sortor

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