Gallery

Black

I take it bitter

As I look at a dying black bird

Affixed in attention

I burn my tongue and throat

On fresh mud

The pain breaks my concentration

….

Looking back

The bird’s legs are still wheeling

Round and round

And I can’t help but feeling

Pound and pound

Looking down

Into that black hole

I know what I must do

I go outside

And look down

His feathers are clenched fingers

On a dirt canvas

And I wonder

If he is groaning out to me

I place my foot on his skull

Motionless

I wince

Well up

And press

His head half buried in mud

Eyes flickering

Closing

There’s a twitch before the lights go out

……

I stand there motionless for minutes

Or hours

A chill shakes my mind and spine

The pain breaks my concentration

I go back into the diner

As I look into my black coffee

I take it bitter

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