makes me cling to you.
the window pane,
Its neck broken.
Part of creation lays motionless
on your patio.
Its watery crimson blood
taints the garden.Shattered wings now only controlled
by the wind.
A birthday gift, parting with a kiss.
Yearning to be closer to you;
stifled by this death.
The horror of reality stares
at us through the lifeless glass eyes
of a pigeon.
Open link night 84 at dVerse poets