A Bird
Creaked By
 
Beside the flat open sky
A bird creaked by
Sauntering high
It rattled like our goodbye
Hovered like our friendship
Uncertain of itself

Its wings were singed
By electric vaults
That fed our thirst
For the blue flicker at night
The incessant hum
Keeping us from ourselves

Pylons cluttered the view
Leading away and above
The drone of our love
Quelling sparks in the fields
That did not
Hold us anymore

There is sometimes a soul
To be found
Underground
Sometimes above
This time there was nothing
Except these words

Kathryn Keane

If you have any comments on this poem, Kathryn Keane would be pleased to hear from you.