BLOOD AND SONG
One of us will have to go first.
One will open the door for the other
and the morning’s duty then,
as now, will be to blend darkness
into ever lighter shades of gold.
Birds, those innocents,
carry twigs to their nests
full of blood and song, their
quick heart beats too will end.
Now I hear you in the kitchen making coffee.
A baby cries in the distance.
Our dogs chase a squirrel, crashing
through overgrown rosemary,
leaving a pungent scent in their wake.
Kelly Eastlund grew up in Colorado and currently lives in Oregon. Her poems have been published in several online journals, including Four and Twenty, Shot Glass Journal, and Poetry Breakfast.