Liar Birds
by DBLevin
After May ended, I built steps
back down to home.
At the bottom we met in a bed —
a bird’s nest.
You spread blood, spit, and sticks
across my open room.
I spent weeks pushing out the knots,
you left like metal from under skin.
Now that you’re gone,
I try taking the steps backwards
my calves cry out again,
I want to turn back but can’t.
And I have to watch the crows
creep through our windows,
kiss and croak, cry and fight over
old eggs inside our bed.
We built out of stone.
It’s so much easier to hold something
when you never move it at all.
Thanks for continuing your blog of which I have been reading for four years .
hi – I’d sort of assumed you had stopped reading. hm, well the honest truth is that for the most part I’ve stopped posting on the blog. I just don’t think it’s exactly the outlet I want for my work anymore. I’ve written a few new things in the past months which I haven’t posted. If you’d like I can send them directly to you. Thanks for reading.
-Dan
Yes, please keep me in the loop.
– que sera
Just happened upon your blog via somewhere via somewhere else….I have only read a few of your poems.
I love this one especially, it’s very rich. I almost always find it hard to comment on a poem more than to say I like or love it and I love this poem.
Thanks–great work. twinkly
Dear Mr. DB: I agree. Lovely poem.
this makes me really sad.