BLUE SKIES AND BROKEN CRIES
- Feb 14
- 1 min read
By Corrina Kehkét
The girl sobs,
and the birds sing
and the birds sing
and the birds sing
wings tucked tight, the birds
sing.
Song and sob meet
at a sun-stunned window screen,
and the song slips past
but the sobs bounce back,
trapped
with the girl who freed them.
The trees softly sway
to shyly wave limbs that bow
and bend, that gently reach,
Hers flail and fling, thrash and
snap,
crack upon impact with a cold
patch of pale sky.
The wind blows
a breathy tune,
and the girl bleats
and the girl brays
and the girl shrieks
and the girl neighs
and the girl howls
harsh, broken sounds
that come tearing out
of a shredded mouth,
ripping past
two rows
of bared teeth,
The ground is steady,
She writhes and rocks,
Wings unfurl,
Hers get caught
on damp air
and hard walls
of blue sky.
The girl falls,
and the birds fly
and the birds fly
and the birds fly,
framed in a bright blue sky,
the birds fly.
The girl drops enough rain
to waterlog a windowpane
while she plummets to the bottom
of her sky-blue cage,
And the birds soar
on wind-wrapped wings
for the girl
who cannot sing
anymore.