A broken wing
in death's chicane
Where pigeons fall
unending pain
A blinded flock
to circle down
As fangs await
both wolves and hounds
While far above
a falcon stalks
Vision prescient
it never balks
A broken wing
once clipped in fear
the raptors chase
—with canids near
(The New Room: October,2023)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem