The sky is a throat culture
taken from the sea,
cast over the plains of America
in wintertime.
Its bacteria swim across the skies,
maturing into something crystalline,
falling invasively through the sky
to form its developed cliques
in tree branches, across rooftops,
and in a sheep-white blanket
across expanses of brown grass and tilled fields.
Come spring, it all bleeds clear.
Author notes
Time to play GUESS THE AUTHOR!
One day I was sitting in my house when I heard an unusual amount of chirping outside, and saw an abnormal number of birds on the trees out my window, all going haywire.
I stepped outside to find my cat, Gabbie, tucked away in the corner between the front porch and the house proper, behind a bush, with a freshly-killed blue jay. The power lines, branches, and gutters were manned by easily 80 adult blue jays, all squawking and screeching and diving at the cat.
My favorite animal is the blue jay.
A contest entry
- Round Three.... by islekine.
507 points, ended November 5, 2008, 3 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Well?
Comments
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I guess...freswinn...
Great write!! Thanks so much for the entry...I am judging now...so stay tuned...lol...it was good to get to know you, and your talents, however briefly...
Write on!
I will pop on, every now and then...
take care!
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A remarkable take on the prompt photo! Great write! Best to you in the contest!
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I love the wording in this! So unique, vivid in descriptions and images.
Good job!!
best wishes in the contest
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