Songbirds from our Mountain

Blood  whistles upon my lips
Like songbirds from our mountain
That make their seldom trips
When Western clouds surround them.

As we rush into our homes,
Crows roam a land alone,
And their song, on what war exhumes…
Until earthen clouds fall undone.

And as we weep a vulture hovers…
My eyes are closed and yours.
Teach me unlike the others…
As gossip on a summer’s doors.

I open my eyes and then I hear
The dry whisper of almond trees.
How can we stay here
Hope is little, the crows are near.

Atop my Home

The sky was then my roof,
Upon our years, stories.
I felt winds that carried
Humanities treaties…

The sky spilled into
The stairwell
And swept me down,
I passed a century
And near the bottom was found.

Black birds flew above
Shedding their iron feathers
Laying their cloth of ruble,

How their whispers spelled trouble.

With me was the sky
As heavy as the years,
And with me i thought i should
Then have it, even so, near.