Bird’s Echoes

White specks swarming,

mass of ricocheting limbs,

and torrents of lost feathers.


Cries cascade out

from the battlefield.


Undulating bodies

throbbing with unsung tune

as claws dipped in red

paint the sky a dripping sunset.


Reeling and plunging

a ferocious dance

of red death

as a bloody moon begins to rise.


When the dark of night,

smoldered by the first rays of new sun

it retreats.


Feather-strewn hills lay waiting

as the world holds it breath

staring at the battlefield

where cries still echo.