Friday, 29 June 2012

Death Wish


Can birds have a suicidal objective in life?
They swoop down into the streets,
low among the passing cars,
like torpedoes with a goal;
They twirl around in the air,
weaving feverishly between the cars,
only to vanish like greased lightning.

A death wish would explain why
looking back
I can no longer see them,
only dark marks on the tarmac.

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