The Intrusive

By Valentina Cano

Birds flutter through my head,
wings beating up a storm of consonants
past my eyes.
Their screeches become the only light I see,
noise turning to colors turning to numbers
as I repeat phrases over and over.
Each one its own feathered creature;
each one looking for flight.

Advertisements
Categories: Issue 4, Poetry | 1 Comment

Post navigation

One thought on “The Intrusive

  1. Cork

    And those feathered creatures will become words on paper. Nice work.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: