By: Jeremiah Walton

Don't disturb the dead bird
Its dry cry goes unheard
Poked at by sticks broken off a nearby rotted tree
Near its body underneath the marquee
With young knuckles wrapped around its imagined hilt
Its body tossed like a rag doll embossed
With cheap black tattered imitation leather
The slick tick of time on rain pattered feathers
A charred cheap treasure
With cracked wings amongst other small things
Pulled joints, and ligaments, tied with strings
It will never be buried, only spat at
Small children squeek "look at that!"
And run off giggling with their swords
Pretending to be ladies and lords


Jeremiah Walton
Nostrovia Poetry



Daily Quote: Let us be kind;
The way is long and lonely,
And human hearts are asking for this blessing only --
That we be kind.
We cannot know the grief that men may borrow,
We cannot see the souls storm-swept by sorrow,
But love can shine upon the way to-day, to-morrow --
Let us be kind.
- W. Lomax Childress


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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011
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3 Responses
  1. Anonymous Says:

    Great poem! I love the word choice


  2. V. Mahfood Says:

    So happy you liked it! I'll let the author know about this.


  3. Richard C. Walton Says:

    I loved the poem. Its odd how children relate to the worl when they are nieve to what will unfold in it in their life time. The poet here had a way of expressing some childrens first experience with that which is death.

    RCW