Killing the Chill

Killing the Chill

Birds dance
like bobbing black buoys

on a choppy afternoon

timeline.

 

A mangy grey dog chews
a severed human hand
on an oil-stained
driveway.

 

The lyrics and meaning
are swallowed

by a garbled

seagull crying song.

 

The ocean owns

my salty green soul,

and she keeps me

from touching bottom.

 

B a p t i z e d; made clean.

But, the day’s colder images hang

in the drain like clumps

of knotted black hair;

 

A cancerous mole

on my angel's white wing

to keep me from flying

to Freedom.

Reviews

[Kerry O'Connor]

Absolutely brilliant... I was mesmerized from those 4 opening lines all the way through to the last 4. Poignant, deep, magnificent scope of thought and feeling.
I love it.

[Robin]

you ever cut yourself - bad , and there is that few seconds before realization and confirmation of how bad ...

yeah like that