Bluebirds chatter-build where cheeping sparrows
forbid amid chirping hatchling swallows.
Cacophony of greed imperatives
masks grounds to seed. My male relatives
hang grimly to the dying ways to feed
a pattern we no longer need. Succeed
by cash amassing. Don’t heed as sisters,
in tune with those who bleed–resisters
who seed their fear in angry deeds–ask why
we turn away from sun, instructive sky
to count the hoard, ignore the cry. I speak
my truth in crumbling story’s pique.
Inspired by: Grounds.
Featured image: High winds knocked this perfect robin’s egg from a nest hidden and unreachable in a tangle of trees.