Marsh Song

A red wing blackbird
Sitting like a fat Popsicle

On a waving stalk in the marsh
Singing lonely yet hopeful like Dylan for a mate,

For a new love to roll the season over,
Heats up the lunar molecules,

Driving the flywheel
Swinging the Dog star

Overhead on its invisible cylinder,
Passing through the core

Missing everything
And missing nothing.

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