Smoke
From
randymon@randymon@tilde.club to
tilde.poetry on Tue Sep 8 01:52:58 2026
Smoke
You carried death in your chest like an elegant bird,
Caressing the iridescent feathers with plumes of smoke.
Within your body it preened and stretched,
Shaking its ruffled wings, nestling ever nearer your heart.
What began as a hummingbird, a sparrow, a goldfinch,
Grew in shape and wingspan,
Evolving and morphing through the years
Into a raven, a hawk, a vulture.
From your lungs I hear the bird's low whistle,
A wheezing call to the flock ahead.
The sound, dark and rasping, growing paler as it reaches your lips.
Those straining lips, once lush and full, glistening like carnelian,
Now resemble a thin, twisted beak.
Unseen, the bird moves, weaving a rancid nest.
Methodically, it tugs at the weft,
Tightening the slippery strands, all stained a tobacco brown.
Three oval pearls are sealed within the damp webbing,
And curled in the shimmering orbs
The fledglings lie in wait: red scaled, hollow boned,
Curved talons poised, their huge lidless eyes staring,
Ready to split their shells.
-- Jackie Bullock
The Poetry Buffet
An Anthology of New Orleans
New Orleans Poetry Journal Press, 2023
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