Chris McDonnell, UK
christymac733@gmail.com

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October 7, 2017  

Perch

Tall trees of the forest

pencil straight

reaching for the West coast sky

a protective canopy for high-roosting birds.

Sharp eyes search the leaf-strewn floor

a gathered place beneath their lofty perch,

their only interest is survival

nothing more.

From thirty-two branches high

came a stuttering song,

dull, repeated packages of sound,

each hard spit reaching

the scattered Autumn leaves

of evening enjoyment below

turning laughter and country song

to piercing pain and tears

fears of who and where and oh....

.....how many?

Bird song in the city

as sirens scream

in pity and worn-out words

lose meaning.

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