The Steeple Guard Poem by Phillip Erb
The Steeple Guard
From her nest atop the church
A black bird peered down at me
Then swooped down suddenly
On me like a missile
Hammered headlong into my car
With a force enough to break her dead
A trail of feathers lofted slow from her nest
So I prayed what for
The northern wind picked up
For a moment I thought God took my call
Wind whipped leaves from October maples
Through my driver-side window and hit my face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/9/2024 9:31:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
