16 March 2014

in the sky above the scarred street

Countless birds
chatter and twistle
this morning
in the city.
While we fill
potholes
the swallows and yellow-billed shrikes
swoop and sing.
Their ringing hymns outstrip
the coughing jackhammers.
With wordless pitch 
their voices fill
the dark heart
denser than pressed tar

whose color dulls

beside the warbler’s luminous sheen.




in the sky above the scarred street
a poem by troy cady


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