Plight Of A Wounded Bird
Norman Mwale [The PenPusher]
In melancholy
She watches the fast birling
World
As she roosts helplessly
In her broken wing.
Vultures casting their shadows,
Her pristine dreams in a vesture
Of cataclysm. Tangled.
They hover in the nigh sky
With incisive claws unclenched,
Like circumcised quills of
Hedgehog,
Thunder tremors, waggling
Her mangled pinion.
She scouted in blue tears
Over the vultures, and her
Bleeding wing subsequently
Before decking herself with
A mourning ring
Upon her pending ending,
To retain memories of her blistery
Times.
Before this bear of ineluctable
Decay,
She gives her life to the scratchy
World to decide her fortune!
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