Taking Out The Head Poem by johnny case

From trees a feather brush scene leaves clues
Wailing birds have cast in robin hues.

Sparrows from a falling oak fly 'bye
Leaving...aye, the thing that couldn't die.

Andra is clearly not a spartan
And all the birds claim she's no martin.

Aunt flavia wants the water wench
Find her some gold, beholds a goldfinch.

The forked stick has possibly found
A fantastic surprise in the ground.

If the buried treasure chest holds gold
What better find for someone grown old?

The winged ones know nothing of greed
Needing not wealth but only birdseed.

Alas, the young wench has led instead
To some dread thing long buried undead!

It's a sailor's disembodied head
Looking for its beheaded body.

The plunging tree shed birds to the sky
Leaving us the thing that couldn't die.