Poetry

It’s a Weary Day

As buzzards flock Inside our bed.They circle, With their dirty unkempt faces.

Poem by Shane Rooney - shanerooney@hotmail.com Spoken by Tiffany Credle Photo and video by Tamriko Bardadze

It’s a Weary Day – Tiffany Credle from Citizen Brooklyn on Vimeo.

Bent to the sun like a flower
I crawl to you.

Given the reasons for my asylum
I lay in the girdle of your bosom
Wearing your ring of bone.

I have often wondered what marriage would be like
To you
In the same way dry dead leaves
Have thought of the rain.

I grow taciturn
All alone
With your expectations of growth.

But I have a hunger coming over me.

As buzzards flock
Inside our bed.

They circle,
With their dirty unkempt faces.

Milling around us
Like aborted children.

Starving for the mother
They never knew.

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