White sacrifices against
a blue streak of speed; Arnie.
Fluttering wings gone,
parted on our altar.
Some up and over, but…
A splattered windshield
We have.
Ohh, delicate and soft
they look from this side;
That side, fluttering
stopped on a grill of one hundred.
Carnage.
Repentance done.
A lifted wiper releasing
The lifeblood; body
less white than
the green smear;
your reminder
Remainder …demeanor
Sorry thoughts do not clean our
Windshield of splashed destruction.
Only a gas station attendant who
Tosses away the waste
To the ground;
a return.
Wings to earth
A clean slate
ready to protect us
in faith
from gritty smiles wake
Again.
Bang. smear
ha. love the verse...great use of form as well...how long has it been since a gas station attendant cleaned a window...lol. my boys love to do it though...
ReplyDeleteThis was written on the road in Mozambique. I dusted it off and tweaked it a bit. It could have just as easily been written last summer on the road to BC and back though. Something about road trips that just attracts the sacrifice of winged critters. Have a good weekend Brian!
ReplyDeleteI am humming "Flies on the Windscreen" by DM right now... :)
ReplyDeleteWow, those were the days of yore that an attendant in the US cleaned your windshield! However, I love the way you put this into verse, a lovely flow!
ReplyDeletewelcome home Suzi!
ReplyDeleteBrian also reminisced on that fact. Hope you had a good holiday
excellent tune C!
ReplyDeletexo