Peter Krisciunas

Rookie (Naperville, IL)

THIRSTBIRD


It is a strange day

There are freedom birds

There are ransom notes

Even thunder clouds

This sky is full of questions

Your handwriting is off

Your thoughts are limping

Even you see the writing on these walls

The walls that read

The wills of those dead birds

As you read in wonder...

Where have they flown,

What have they heard.

Submitted: Saturday, April 26, 2008
Edited: Saturday, April 26, 2008

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