The Place Where My Heart Lives

it is on top of a cliff
it is an eagle's nest
there is a red egg
in the middle of those
blue eggs

there is no eagle
anymore that flies there
anymore

the blue eggs spoil
there is nothing there
the blue egg
cracks
my heart still sings
the blues

the clouds listen for a while
then they cry
the way the rain falls on the plains
then they drift away

the blue egg cracks
and shall be silent for a while
until the black eagle comes
and takes it back
to the place where it must be

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!