Pirouette

A thick murder on the western fog
soars black eyes and outcast hearts.
The hollows approach on noble wings
of sunset and haggard quills.

Click, click tongue and stout beak;
let’s dance to a scarecrow’s grin
and roost in the season of abundance.
Mandibles abrade, sharp and arcane
perch on the precipice of reverie,
share husks of labor, love, and sweat,
and shrivel leaves like hands in a fire.
Down fluffs dampness and taut wire
as sailcloth at the bottom of the sea.
A ubiquitous map of insects and myth
bobs head, dips tail, and dosey does.
Ghosts of youth and nimble ecstasy
caw rough feathers and autumn,
when the dead long to pirouette.

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