Observations On Pre-Gustav Sunday Poem by elysabeth faslund
Observations On Pre-Gustav Sunday
No birds penciling messages across the sky.
No hide and seek with tree leaves.
Nestled miles away.
What of the homeless?
Heroes of sidewalks, cardboard?
Has shelter transported them?
Heaven came in what form?
Disturbed by questions unanswered...
Under what sky strangles Monday?
Undeniably the Albatross,
Understanding wind wings, soft throats.
What of the now...
No birds penciling messages...
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4/26/2024 7:55:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
