Wednesday, June 5, 2013

No giddy gyre




No giddy gyre
A vulture's flight
Wheeled to scope
A pearlized lens
Shiny shins
A rib bed perch
Rung from life
A meal to grub
No altar for
These blackened wings
No apse to make an offering
They carry on
Transfusing blood
Coursed in vain
Of timeless rings

















Tom McGlynn
copyright 2013

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