Bird

In the circling dark green bower
...a red flit...
    ...a majestic swoon, an airy rise...
the purple bloom that I sought
    is lost to heaven!

A deep and tragic radiance
lusters from the shadow
    ...my heart is mortified
by your angelic chirps...
    your song of heaven!

The blue rose, in a garden lost to daylight,
exudes an ancient, rich perfume
    ...only the faintest hint
may scorch my tortured flesh...
    oh desolate heaven!

Bright bird, upon your sun-sparkled heights,
you light a moment upon cold earth
    ...then set the bower ablaze...
take flight from aching eyes...
    you’re lost to heaven!


***

Steven Holland
June 26, 2012