Screaming heart that beats so loud,
as wings emerge out of my back
like swords from bone
flashing open gold on the red covered field
who am I to burst forth with gold blood dripping
still red from the field
laden in bright grass
red tops from battle and yellow grains
Would I be the one to slay them?
What was my cause with scythe in hand?
Was this my grain now to keep?
What use was there in culling tainted corn?
What use was there in corn?
staring off to the black and crooked mountains.
a breach between them of pouring water,
the ocean licking sunlight
washing and calling me far afield
Thoughts fade as I walk toward it.
At the fields edge larger lingers the wind
like fingers brushing my long red hair,
and breathing strong as it brushes past
the skeleton of outstretched behind me
It picks at the feathers bursting forth
cracking open the pin feathers, barbs and rachis
spreading along the fingered mass,
so long, so thick, so sharp the feeling.
Coddled in cool pain, toward the cre