No. 1
Frozen in Fear. In Death.
Away
From the flock.
In the depths of the
Dark
Deep
cell.
Gasping
for breath.
Mouth
Open.
Neck
Strained.
Craning for air,
for light.
Was your loss noticed?
Mourned?
Were your cries heard? Blocked?
Were you remembered,
or forgotten
When you settled, lost in the smothering dust?
But you are remembered now.
You are found.
A memory
is made.
But not of your life,
Of your Death,
So visible in it’s terror
Suffocating in the
twisting
of
your form.
No. 4
Air rising
Stratospheric soaring, up, beyond
The clouds
To where the line between land and air
Curves
Wind, wild
Feathers pushed to the body
Streamlined
Clear
Spiraling higher, gliding.
Boundaries vanished
The freedom of
Flight
The freedom
Of life in a moment.
Away
From the dark
In your dreams
No. 5
Death is not heard,
Death is so silent
when it settles.
Did I ever hear it, feel it?
I only felt it when found.
I felt:
No-one to comfort,
to hold.
I felt:
So
Alone.
Absolute.
I felt:
Fear and blackness
No words.
Just space.
I felt, what you felt.
Infinite in your
State of
Alone.
I will hold your memory
Engulf it, you.
So the cold hand is
Gone.
Though it never truly will
It always will be
your last memory.
No. 7
The rot
Slow.
A silent,
lonely grave
among the ancient soot
of long forgotten fires.
Feathers fall slowly, like the touch of autumn
as decay quietly, gradually engulfs.
Moisture
Absorbed by dust.
A skeleton of fibres and desiccated flesh settles,
Undisturbed.
Until open!
Bird is found, resurrected!
A memory that never was,
is now.
A memory that never was,
begins.
An identity never known
becomes.
Bird is,
And might be,
Remembered.
No. 2
The colours gone.
The soot absorbed.
Time.
Taken.
Greens of feathers
once
Glistening, Iridescent.
Time.
Taken.
Dust remains
Flat
In the Dark
The Browns sit.
Red brick, but not
Red
As we remember it.
Mute.
The colours of song are now
Gone.
No . 3
What led you here?
What made you fall
into the darkness?
Was the sky still blue
When you were sucked
Down
into the dust?
Had you flown the skies,
Soared the clouds, touched the sun?
Had you skimmed the fields glistening
in the morning dew?
Maybe you glided the depths,
through ancient forests
crumbling barns, and
darkened cities?
You must have sung your song above and near;
I may have answered.
Yet you floundered here,
Trapped.
Calling.
Unheard.
Here you settled.
Silent, twisted.
Here you gave yourself to the dust.
No choice.
And quietly, slowly you were taken
Away from the skies,
to the ground
No. 6
Down.
Trapped within
the Dark.
Wings clipped; no flight
Up
to the light.
Bird in the dark.
Away from the flock,
Hidden,
Calling?
Is the sound muffled?
By soot?
By time?
Suffocated by the
Blackness
Of time?
The light, Brilliant in the distance
High above
Fades
As hope for flight, for life
Fades.
Blocked and dying,
Blocked and dead.
No. 8
Dark
Alone
Nothing.
Broken
Straining
Nothing.
Calling
Crawling
Pain
Nothing.
Waiting
Fear
Cold
Nothing.
Breathing
Fear
Terror
Nothing.
Thirst
Hunger
Pain
Nothing.
Weakness
Scratching
Whisper
Nothing.
Dreaming
Whimper
Fades.
Nothing.
No. 9
Found.
Beauty in the life that was.
Questions?
Surface - the whys and how
Look.
You’re more than a thing of wonder,
More that a thing of beauty.
You’re a wonder of life
Gone.
You’re a picture of
The agony of death.
Sadness
That you died so near,
Were there for
so long.
Unheard.
Unknown, until
Now.
No. 10
When silence fills
The gap
It shouts so loud.
Where is she now?
She cannot have gone
So far.
So sudden
It registers somewhere, but not here.
How to fill the gap?
The silence?
The shard of emptiness
Stabs