Alternatively, Ode to the red winged blackbird
who rode on the hawk's shoulder just because he could.
Call conk-la-ree until your breath is golden in the dawn.
Mist of your song spells spring, spells new. Spells begin again.
Ode to the red winged blackbird who sat on the branch's edge
and chorused for tomorrow before the end of today. Rattle reeds
and play predator in the morning. Make yourself bigger and begin again.
Ode to the red winged blackbird who fell from the sky talons
locked, who turned water's edge from death to symphony, who
convinced the grackles tomorrow was a pond named--begin again.
Ode to Mason who led each dawn chorus because he was
the defining bird of home. Our feathers could not be the same
because I plucked my skin swollen and pink. You were sleek,
iridescent, and built for the sun. We flocked together at witching
hours because I am an owl, and I was always afraid my beak
would be the one to crunch your hollow bones.
YOU ARE READING
Dawn Chorus (Proxies x Reader)
FanfictionIn a world with monsters, a new type of adrenaline junky arises. Instead of testing their fragility against great heights, feats of nature, or death-defying stunts, those who believe flaunt their mortality in front of the bloody jaws of monsters. (Y...
