Migration
How easily they scatter
and restring themselves,
necklace wire taut
on the sky’s bare throat,
arranged visual symphony,
silhouette notes,
perched, iron ornaments
on wrought-spruce filigree,
shadow play of coming Yule.
Their multitude is galaxy,
black stars stark bright
against pale autumn light.
Return again!
Wheeling freedom,
unreeling choreography:
teach us your joyful harmony.
___________________________
We are all alone,
our one-mind atrophied,
heart-breaking,
exploded clay-pigeon fragments,
alienated, silent, lost.
We are trapped in airless cages,
parroting repeating rages
of our own making,
awaiting awaking.
© Tamara Rasmussen 2018