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Poetry
The Birdkeeper
By francoise
14 February 2008

I was thinking about abandonment and the unwillingness to accept it when writing this. How small you feel when it happens, be it from a lover or a friend. 


Here I am, maddened
by what he gave me.
From the fourth floor of
this spell I will make
circles in the darkness;
I won't sing.

An aimless ascent
In the mote-filled air,
beaten and stricken
with mistiming. I
flutter past his door
on a spot; home in.

A blot on the moon.
He sleeps and rises
without me.

Reviews

Written by Matthiasrising (37 comments posted) 14th February 2008
Not sure what it's about, but lovely word choice and flow. 
I liked it.

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