Blackbirds (For Smoky And Patti)

blackbirds...
the spindly children
of blood red skies,
walking barefooted
on the dusty path,
cawing!
demons?
no, the demons
walk upright with
sharpened swords,
cutting the tongues
from the beaks,
breaking wings
with moral hammers!
blackbirds...
spirits set out,
left to dandelion clinging,
and morsels of bread
thrown out by
those who belch rules...
spirits,
that die to fly,
to taste forbidden clouds,
cawing!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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